


filament

by i_was_human



Category: Lost in Translation (Webcomic)
Genre: Age Swap, Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Junsu (Lost in Translation) & Kang Dongho | D.Min are Brothers, Lies, News Media, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Reunions, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Whump, characterization is a kind suggestion at best, feat. the normal whump stick and the industrial sized whump stick, fluff near the end, jaewon's mom is the best, netizens are the fucking worst, no beta we die like dongho almost did, the ceo is once again the absolute worst, things dongho is not doing: vibing, why is this so long? because minsoo's a little bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28100583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_was_human/pseuds/i_was_human
Summary: Incandescent bulbs are much less efficient than other types of electric lighting, converting less than 5% of the energy they use into visible light.
Relationships: Ahn Jaewon | Wyld & Kang Dongho | D.Min & Kim Daehyun & Lee Minsoo, Junsu & Kang Dongho | D.Min
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	filament

_**act 1: i wish to dance in the gaps between the end** _

* * *

There's something to be said for the dead of night, Dongho decides, gaze pinned on the ceiling.

That's not to say he _likes_ when it's this quiet and dark - it reminds him too much of memories he'd rather not recall - but it's better than having the light shine on him.

Well. From a certain point of view. 

The bed's soft - the kind of soft he's never really managed to get used to - and the air always smells like air freshener or some sort of cleaning product instead of dirty clothes or rotting food, but it's _nice_. It's nice existing here - here in this somewhat liminal space - even if he feels like he doesn't belong.

 _Feels like_. He should honestly just say it like it is.

 _He does not belong here_.

Four years, and he still feels out of place. 

His phone buzzes on the side table, a bright beam of light slashing through the darkness, and he rolls over, squinting first at the clock ( _3:41am_ ) and then at the contact name on the screen.

Odd.

Minsoo doesn't text him _ever_ , much less this early (late?) so he can't help but wonder what the issue is.

* * *

**mayhem lee minsoo**

hyung  
hyung  
hyungieeeee  
hyungles  
hyyyyyyungggggg

What.

AHA  
i knew you were awake :P  
you cannot defeat me  
i am  
genuis

Genuis.

gniues  
geniuis  
GENIUS

Clearly.  
Did you need anything?

are oyu meeting me at the station 2morrow

...I think you meant to text Dae-yah.

OH  
oh  
oops  
uh  
this is awkward  
sorry hyung  
i'll uh  
let you sleep now!  
good night!

* * *

Dongho exhales, clicking off his phone and tossing it across the too-plush bed.

God, this hurts.

He hates this - hates lying about who he is, where he's from, why he's here.

It just... _aches_.

Because for all the world knows, he's Kang Dongho, twenty-five and one of the two oldest members of MAYHEM. Born from a rich family, currently living on his own in Seoul with his cat after graduating college, taught by the most prestigious dance teachers in the States... he's the picture of privilege.

...god, it'd be nice if that were true. 

After all, the truth is this: his name is Choi Dongho, he's twenty-one, and every single thing people have been told about his life is a lie.

He wasn't born into a world of privilege - he was born to hoarder parents who would buy heroin instead of dinner. He didn't graduate college - he spent his first year as a trainee trying desperately to finish high school. He wasn't taught by any fancy dance teachers - he was taught by the one teacher in his life who could be bothered to give a rat's ass. 

...but that doesn't sell, does it?

He has no doubt that if the general public found out the truth about him, they'd hate him. That's just how it works. Nobody likes _kids like him_ \- teachers over the years beat that through his skull with the rock-hard hammers of _you will never be anything_ and _no matter how hard we try, you'll amount to nothing_. Nobody likes kids with scars on their arms and the instinct to fight engrained in their bones.

Nobody likes kids like him. 

He exhales, casting his gaze towards the ceiling. That's not... not _entirely_ true, he has to admit. There was Mr. Kim, and there was Jun, but Jun doesn't count because Dongho hasn't seen him in eleven years, and Mr. Kim probably hates him now that Dongho disappeared without so much as a good-bye.

So yeah. Nobody likes kids like him.

A soft _mrrow_ floats through the air, and Dongho rolls over, coming face-to-face with his cat.

Ah.

"Hey, Boba-yah."

Boba leans in to sniff his nose, and Dongho reaches up to scratch her head, lips curling into a soft grin as Boba curls into his chest. "You're my favorite, you know?"

Boba blinks lazily at him, and Dongho exhales, gaze drifting to the drawer that holds everything the company won't let him have. "...thanks for being here, Boba-yah."

Boba, being a cat, doesn't reply.

* * *

Because Dongho's luck is the fucking _worst_ , he gets called into a meeting the next day.

He should be lucky, he decides - after all, it could be one of the worse meetings. It could be one of the meetings where he gets in trouble for saying the wrong thing, or looking the wrong way, or not wearing the insoles that add three inches to his height, or tripping in said insoles, or fucking up a dance _again_ because of said insoles, or daring to do something the company doesn't approve of-

The point is this: he is not an independent entity. 

He scoops up his keys and wallet from the bowl by the door, gaze landing on one of the many mirrors plastered over the space. Kang Dongho is meant to be a little vain, and even in his own apartment, he has to play that role.

He stares at himself for an instant - at the bronze-blond hair that should bring out his eyes but really just accentuates the dark circles, at the tight turtleneck and useless jacket hanging off his shoulders, at the scar on his cheek, hidden under concealer - and exhales, turning away from the mirror.

He doesn't like looking at his reflection. 

After all, it doesn't look like him in the slightest.

 _Dongho_ does not have blond hair with dark roots growing in. _Dongho_ does not have passable skin ( ~~because nothing he's doing is ever perfect~~ ). _Dongho_ does not belong in a place like this - a place of disgusting opulence and perpetual waste.

 _~~Dongho~~ _ ~~looks too much like his mother to ever belong here.~~

But that's the thing, isn't it?

He isn't _Dongho_ anymore. He's Kang Dongho, D.Min - a character to be played, not a person to _be_.

And as unfortunate as that is, everyone likes Kang Dongho better. 

MAYHEM does. They need Kang Dongho, their reliable hyung with money to toss around. The CEO does. He wants that rich poster child to show that _yes, this is a good company, can't you see?_

Nobody likes Choi Dongho. 

After all, if it wasn't for HCE, he'd have turned out just like his parents. 

Everyone's always told him as much.

His jagged nails scratch against the doorknob as he pulls it shut, and then he's off to the company.

* * *

He doesn't like meeting with the CEO. In fact, he hates it with a passion. 

This isn't just because the CEO will tear his every action to shreds with a merciless rage, fists slamming on the desk and making a quiet room far, far too loud. This isn't just because the CEO will lean across the table and grab the ~~collar~~ choker he has to wear for photoshoots and pull and twist and tell him _he is nothing_. 

It's because the CEO makes him listen.

The CEO makes him listen to what he's going to do to Jaewon, and Dongho can do _nothing to stop it_.

Because every single time he brings up maybe _not_ doing whatever he's planning, the CEO will raise a brow and stare at him with those dark, dark, empty eyes, and ask if _he would like to be the one taking the fall? Someone lying about their age for four years would be such a good headline, don't you think_ _?_ and Dongho will shut his mouth, because the CEO has him on a short, short leash, and if he steps out of line, the man will _choke him_.

Anyways.

The CEO gestures to the seat across from him, and so Dongho sits, the loop of raw skin around his neck twinging painfully at the sight of the man's meaty fingers. That's one of the cons of wearing strips of leather for photoshoots, he decides - the way they chafe. 

(it doesn't help that the CEO likes to pull at it.)

"It's nice to see you, Dongho," the CEO greets, and Dongho's gaze drifts to his knees, his mouth firmly shut. "How are you doing?"

These days are the most dangerous, he decides - the days where the CEO pretends that they're all friendly, the days where the CEO pretends like they're just employer and employee, not spider and hapless, hopeless victim - so he chooses to respond with a simple "good". 

"Oh?" the CEO replies, and Dongho feels his heart plummet into his feet.

He fucked up, somehow. He has no idea _what_ he did, only that he did _something_ , and he's going to get in trouble for it, and the CEO won't even tell him what he's done wrong-

"What are you doing for your break?"

That's the thing, isn't it?

Dongho's so hopelessly entangled in the company's webs that he doesn't _get_ a break. He doesn't _get_ to stay at home and spend a day relaxing and just existing as _him_ , because that's not what Kang Dongho does. 

It's a rhetorical question, in the end, and they both know it.

"Coming in to work on some tracks," he replies, "and then dance practice until six."

"Right," the CEO replies, and Dongho flinches at the slimy, greasy, _predatory_ smile that slips onto the man's face. "After all, you're behind with the new choreography, aren't you?"

Is he?

He must be.

Dongho dips his head, and the CEO's smile widens further, triumph laced into the turn of his lips. "You're free to go."

He _wants_ to scramble out of the room and hide in a hole for the rest of his life. He _wants_ to run away and wrap himself up in threadbare hoodies and patched-up winter coats and try to pretend he's happy like he was once, try to pretend he never had to leave the one foster home where he actually felt happy, try to pretend that _things are okay_ , despite knowing they're never going to be so again.

But he doesn't.

He rises slowly, gives the CEO a calm farewell, and heads for the door, trying to hide the way his hands shake.

* * *

God, Jaewon's fucked.

Jaewon is _well and truly fucked_ , because Minsoo and Daehyun - the only two members of MAYHEM who seem to tolerate his presence - are out of town, and he can't go to the CEO, and _there is someone in his house_.

He's no fool. There is _clearly_ someone in his house, but who the _fuck_ can he go to?

Jun? No. He can't rope Jun into this - can't rope Jun into the mess of _Wyld_. Jun's out.

Nari? No. She wouldn't help him anyways.

Dongho? 

...that could actually work.

Dongho's cold towards him - cold towards _all_ of them, actually - and Jaewon supposes that's to be expected. He's easily the most qualified in the group, not to mention one of the two oldest, and he _definitely_ acts more like the mature oldest hyung than Daehyun does, so why is he hesitating?

...oh.

Has he ever actually texted Dongho before?

Probably not. 

...but does he have another option?

He fires off a pair of quick texts - proper spelling, capitalization, and punctuation absolutely required - and taps the call button, pressing his phone to his ear as his heart races.

_Ring... ring... ring... ring..._

_"Hello?"_

"Ah, hyung- it's Wyld."

_"I saw."_

Ouch. 

This is off to a great start. 

"Aha... anyways, I was wondering if we could meet up to record that song cover today? I'm kinda busy the next few days, so I'd really like to meet up today..."

_"What are you talking about?"_

"The cover of 'Rescue Me', remember?"

_"Did you call the right person?"_

"I think the company's closed today, so would it be okay if I came over? I just need your address."

_"Jaewon-ah, what-"_

"Thanks, hyung!"

He hangs up the call and stuffs his phone in his pocket, snagging his earbuds from the side table and heading out the door.

Please, god, let Dongho send him the address.

* * *

Dongho may or may not be panicking slightly.

Just slightly. 

He is calm and collected and _zen_ and _not panicking_ despite the fact that he totally is. He just... has to change clothes, hide anything he's not supposed to have, and all of it in ten minutes.

This is fine.

No. Really.

By the time Jaewon knocks, Dongho's somehow managed to hide ninety percent of the contraband, and he kicks the last thing - his patched-up winter jacket - under the bed, whispering a silent apology to it as he heads for the door.

He opens the door, and _oh_.

Jaewon's clearly been crying - his dark eyes are rimmed in red, and he's clutching to his backpack strap for dear life. There's a sort of hopelessness on his face - the kind Dongho knows well - and as he steps aside, Jaewon enters the apartment, a hint of curiosity sparking in his eyes. 

"...this place is huge..." Jaewon murmurs, mostly to himself, and Dongho nods, short and clipped.

"I've seen bigger, but I've always liked smaller places like this better."

 _Lie_. The largest house he's ever been in was a two-story foster home. 

Jaewon stares at him, momentarily stunned, and Dongho gestures to the couch, trying to keep his expression carefully neutral. "If you want to sit down, I'll make you tea?"

"Ah- I don't need tea," Jaewon laughs, and Dongho frowns a bit. 

"You're stressed. Let me make some chamomile."

"A-Ah... okay..."

Dongho heads for the kitchen, pulling out the tea kettle - shiny, yes, but bearing small scratches from use - and putting some water into it. It's not as advanced as someone would expect, and it's certainly not automatic, but he likes making it by hand. It reminds him of going to the café near his house with Jun, back when their parents were alive and would fight into the night, and the two of them would climb down the tree by their window and sneak over to the café, where the nice owner would give them cocoa and tell them stories. 

What was her name?

The kettle whistles slightly, startling him out of his reverie, and he flicks off the burner, pouring hot water into two mugs and adding the tea bags. Once that's done, he waits for a moment before picking up the two mugs, and he carries them to the living room, placing both on the table and sliding one towards Jaewon.

"Ah-" Jaewon stammers, ears tinted bright red, "you really didn't have to, hyung-"

"Don't burn your mouth," is what Dongho replies with, and Jaewon ducks his head, staring down at the mug in front of him. 

"...thank you."

They sit for a few minutes in amicable silence - Dongho tapping a rhythm against his mug and Jaewon staring into its dark depths - before Dongho finally speaks, pulling out the tea bag and wrapping it in a paper towel.

"Why did you come here, Jaewon-ah?"

"...I think someone broke into my apartment."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

* * *

"Are you hurt?"

Jaewon blinks at the man sitting next to him, entirely unsure of what to say.

That's... not what he expected. Not at _all_. He would've expected that question from Daehyun, not Dongho. Hell, even _Minsoo_ would be more likely to ask that.

And _oh_ , now Dongho's staring, and Jaewon's been quiet for too long, he's gotta say _something_ -

"I-I'm fine!" Jaewon stammers, waving his hands wildly as his mug balances on his thighs. "I just..."

"You just?"

"...I called the police..."

"And?"

Jaewon pulls his lower lip between his teeth, eyes burning with unshed tears. "...will you believe me? If I tell you?"

"Of course."

...no hesitation. No fear.

Just... belief.

Jaewon doesn't know how to react to that, honestly.

Because _why_? Why does Dongho trust him when he has the reputation he does? Why does Dongho trust him when he hasn't even said what happened?

Jaewon just... doesn't know how to feel.

"...someone took a photo of me while I was sleeping at home."

Silence.

"So I called the police to check if someone was there, and they said there wasn't anyone, but someone had to have been in there to take that, so-"

"Hey."

Dongho's hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and Jaewon's head jerks up, gaze meeting Dongho's sharp one.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Breathe."

Jaewon's eyes slide shut as he tries to suck in a breath, and Dongho's hand falls from his shoulder, coming to rest back in its owner's lap. Jaewon only has a moment to mourn the loss of warmth before something warmer lands in his lap, and Dongho huffs in amusement.

"Wow. I've never seen her hop up to someone like that."

Jaewon's eyes widen, his gaze falling to his lap, and _oh_.

A black cat sits on top of his thighs, curled around his warm mug and blinking lazily at him, and _oh_ , does Dongho have a cat? He never mentioned it.

"This is Boba," Dongho states, and the cat _mrrow_ s in agreement. "She seems to like you."

"Ah- really?"

Boba raises her head, and _oh_ , is the cat glaring at him? Can cats glare? Jaewon's pretty sure she's glaring.

"She does," Dongho affirms, taking a sip from his tea. "She wouldn't come over if she didn't."

There's another long pause, during which Jaewon busies himself with scratching Boba's head. She's soft - _very_ soft, in fact - and she headbutts his chin once he stops, seemingly asking for more cuddles.

"I have a plan," Dongho finally states, and Jaewon blinks at him, eyes widening, "but you have to trust me."

...does he trust Dongho?

That's the question, isn't it?

Can he trust Dongho with this?

"...I trust you."

Dongho's lips quirk into the ghost of a smile, and Jaewon-

doesn't know exactly how to feel about that, honestly. 

Is it that surprising that Jaewon trusts him? They're groupmates, aren't they?

(that doesn't mean much, though, does it?)

* * *

For once, Dongho's glad Jaewon came to him.

See, the thing is this: if Jaewon had gone to anyone else, then they would've involved the police again. And sure, the police can be useful _sometimes_ , but Dongho's had _far_ too many bad experiences to trust that it could help whatsoever. 

He's getting off topic.

The short answer is this: Dongho is glad he can help Jaewon as a hyung, even if he isn't one. 

...that does fuck-all for him when he's waiting outside Jaewon's door, though.

Jaewon told him the passcode - it's MAYHEM's debut date - so now Dongho just... has to wait and listen.

He hates this.

He's never been one to wait idly by - never been one to sit and bide his time when people need his help - so to just... _wait_ when Jaewon's in danger-

it _rankles_.

His fingers drum against the wall, and he tips his head back, a soft exhale escaping his lips. 

_"...be together forever..."_

God, he hates this woman.

Not only because she's a sasaeng, not only because she's fucking insane, but just because it...

This brings up memories he'd rather forget. 

Dongho reaches out to slowly key in the passcode, quiet beeps ringing out with each number he presses. As he continues, he can hear the woman gushing inside - " _you're so gorgeous, my Jaewon-ie_ " - and it's _nauseating_. 

The door gives a gentle beep as it unlocks, and he nudges it open just a bit, nails digging into his palms and gaze fixing on the figures inside.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

The woman's sitting on Jaewon's thighs, her knife pressed to his neck and a demented smile on her lips, and Jaewon looks-

he looks _terrified_.

Before Dongho can second-guess himself (this is stupid, stupid, _so so stupid_ -) he strides forwards, grasping the woman's wrist and hauling her off his bandmate.

"Wh- who- _D.Min_!"

She thrashes in his grasp, flipping her knife around in her fingers, and Dongho exhales, twisting around and slamming her into the wall.

"H-Hyung-" Jaewon stammers, and Dongho presses his arm into the woman's neck, the other one holding her wrists above her head.

"You _betrayed me_!" the woman shrieks, and Dongho's gaze flits to Jaewon, the elder clutching his hoodie for dear life and tears swimming in his eyes.

...fuck.

"Jaewon-ah," Dongho states, trying to keep his voice even, "I need you to take the knife off her."

"I-"

" _Trust me_ ," Dongho stresses, and Jaewon just... flops a bit.

Oh.

He's tied up.

Dongho feels kinda stupid now.

"I'll get that," Dongho mutters, pressing his knee into the woman's gut and using his other hand to wrench the knife from her grasp. He chucks it on the floor, where it skitters across the wood and brushes up against Jaewon's leg, and _that isn't helping either_.

Jaewon looks... mildly amused? Or is that hysteria?

At least he's not laughing at him.

"I'm going to let you go," Dongho states, "and you're going to sit over there and _not move_ until I can tie you up. Got it?"

"Fuck you!"

"See, that's not really helping your case."

...god, this woman is creepy. She almost reminds him of number fifty-eight on the List Of Things Dongho Is Not Talking About.

Eventually, he just decides to do the smart thing and drags her over to the closet, using one of Jaewon's hoodies to tie her hands to the doorknob before heading back to his groupmate's side.

"Ah..." Jaewon murmurs, watching as Dongho cuts through the duct tape around his ankles, "isn't that... a little harsh?"

"I'm gonna tie her up with duct tape," Dongho deadpans, "don't worry."

"...can't we just... let her go?"

Dongho stares at him, stunned into silence, and Jaewon fidgets with his sleeves, eyes dark.

"Are you crazy?"

"I don't want her to get in trouble for this," Jaewon murmurs, and Dongho stares at him, thoroughly bewildered.

"If we don't do anything about it, she'll just do it again."

"...that doesn't mean we should ruin her life."

"Jaewon. She could have _murdered you_."

Jaewon bites his lower lip, and Dongho exhales, raking a hand through his hair. "...look. Jaewon-ah. She knows where you live and the passcode to get in. We can't just _let her go_."

"Why not?"

There's a fire in Jaewon's eyes, he notes - a kind of determination that _scares him_ \- and he exhales, reaching up to rake a hand through his hair. 

"...I'll take her out of here. You grab some clothes - you're staying the night at my place."

"Ah- hyung- I couldn't-"

"It would reassure _me_ if you did," Dongho simply replies, grabbing a roll of duct tape and wrapping up the woman's hands. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He unties the woman from the closet, hauls her outside - it's easy, despite her protests - and pulls her into an alley, slamming her against the brick and pressing her back into the wall.

"I want to tell you," he murmurs, voice low but _stone-cold_ , "that if you _ever_ come after Ahn Jaewon again, I _will_ break your neck, _witnesses be damned_. Have I made myself clear?"

The woman stares at him, eyes wide, and Dongho increases the pressure, a pained gasp slipping through her lips. " _Have I made myself clear_?"

She nods, and Dongho releases her, taking a step back and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Good. Now _leave_."

He turns away, tugging his hood over his head and heading back for the apartment. He's pretty sure she leaves - almost certain - but he doesn't turn back to check.

Call it cowardice. Call it good judgement.

Dongho calls it selfish.

* * *

There are few things more awkward than being the one to help an acquaintance through a mental breakdown, Dongho thinks.

Jaewon's sitting on his couch, wrapped up in blankets with Boba on his lap, and Dongho's sitting next to him, hands wrapped around a mug of cocoa and gaze pinned on a space just above the piano. He knows he should do something - knows he _has to_ do something - but knows even more than that that there's really nothing he _can_ do.

"...what do you want to have for dinner?"

This he can do, at least.

"Ah... I'm fine with anything," Jaewon murmurs, and Dongho internally kicks himself.

If Jaewon had given him a dish, he could've come up with some excuse for the total lack of food besides instant ramen in his kitchen, but he _didn't_ , and there's no way in hell Dongho can get away with offering him instant ramen - hell, Jaewon probably thinks he eats caviar every night - so now he has to sneak out, get groceries, look up a recipe on his phone and then execute it like he's done it a thousand times.

Joy.

"...sorry, I don't have much in the house. I was gonna go shopping today, but..."

He trails off, letting Jaewon fill in the blank, and the older man's shoulders hitch higher, his red hair eclipsing his eyes as he ducks his head.

Goddammit.

"I hope you don't mind instant ramen," Dongho states, and Jaewon shakes his head, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his hoodie-clad arms around them.

...he's really not suited for this.

While the water boils, he searches up "how to help a guy i barely know with a mental breakdown" and when that produces no satisfactory results, he sighs, opting to check his cat game instead. 

Yes, he only has two games on his phone. Yes, one of them is a game about collecting cats and the other one is the one Minsoo and Daehyun play together. No, this isn't sad, it's just... mildly pathetic. Is that a step up? Dongho thinks it is.

He brings the two bowls over to the living room, placing one on the table in front of Jaewon and holding the other in his lap. It's odd, being like this - he's not entirely sure what to do, nor what's actually normal in a situation like this - but Jaewon reaches out to pull the bowl into his lap, so Dongho counts it as a win.

They eat in silence, Jaewon staring at his phone while Dongho stares into his noodles, and _damn_ is it awkward. Were he more confident at _all_ , he'd suggest something to do, but Jaewon looks like he wants to sleep for the rest of his life, so Dongho doesn't want to press.

"...it's not your fault," he finally states, and Jaewon turns, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

"Hyung...?"

"It's not your fault," Dongho repeats, and Jaewon gives him a crooked little smile that's _so achingly fake_ , so _clearly_ plastic and manufactured and _fake_ , and Dongho's breath catches in his throat. 

"Thanks, hyung."

He hates that smile.

(he knows that smile.)

* * *

**meyhrm**

**maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
diNG DONG THE BITCH IS BACK

 **hyungles 1**  
we're at jeju ^^  
minsoo-yah's family is so nice!!!

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
ur just sayin that bc my mom called u a "handsome young man"

 **hyungles 1**  
yea so

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
biTCH  
i'm the mAKNAE  
this is MAKNAE ABUSE  
@hyungles 2 I'M BEING ABUSED

 **hyungles 2**  
Why am I "hyungles 2"

**hyungles 2 changed their name to Kang Dongho**

**maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
you are nO FUN  
NO FUN I TELLS YA

 **Kang** **Dongho**  
Are you going for a New York accent?

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
,,,,,,,,,,,maybe

 **hyungles 1**  
dongho!!!!!  
ur here ^W^

 **Kang Dongho**  
Hey, Dae.

 **maknae leader lee** **minsoo!!!!**  
why is dongho-hyung so pROPER  
what self respecting millennial uses pUNCTUATION  
AND CAPITALIZATION

 **maknae: red edition**  
Ah, Dongho-hyung!  
I didn't know you were in this GC (_ _|||)

 **Kang Dongho**  
Hey, Jaewon-ah.  
How are you feeling?

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
why would he not be feeling good  
what is going on  
my hyungles senses are tingling  
my maknae senses are brring  
my leader senses are wooping

 **hyungles 1**  
jaewonnie-yah are you okay??????

 **Kang Dongho**  
What "hyungles senses" do you even have?

 **maknae: red edition**  
Yeah!  
I'm fine ^W^

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
i hAVE THEM I TELLS YA  
HOW DARE YOU SHADE MY PRECIOUS HYUNGLES SENSES

 **maknae red edition**  
I'm just staying at Dongho-hyung's tonight :D

 **Kang Dongho**  
Bold of you to assume there's anything to shade.

 **hyungles 1**  
ah jaewonnie-yah that's so great!!! make sure to drink a lot of water and eat well

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
choke ❤️  
not jaewon  
this fucker right here

 **Kang Dongho**  
No.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
YOUR LEADER COMMANDS IT  
YOUR MAKNAE COMMANDS IT  
DO AS I SAY PEASANT

 **Kang Dongho**  
Yeah.  
Have a nice night, Minsoo-yah.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
gET YOUR FUCK BACK HERE  
HYUNG  
H Y U N G

* * *

In his dreams, he's always running.

This is fine, he decides, because it's better to be running than to be trapped.

Tonight, he's sprinting through a back alley, a few granola bars in one hand and his little brother's wrist in the other, and a shopkeeper chases after them, loud and screaming and _so, so dangerous_. He boosts Jun up the fire escape, swinging up himself a second later, and the rusted metal creaks as they sprint for the roof, the dilapidated structure shuddering as their feet pound against it.

 _"Get back here!"_ the shopkeeper shrieks, and Dongho leaps across the gap between the roofs-

and then he's standing in front of his parents, their bodies lying on the ground and needles littering the floor around them.

Dongho leans forwards, shakes his mother's shoulder - and it's skinny, so, so skinny - and she doesn't stir, which-

Dongho knows he's not supposed to disturb her when she's sleeping - then she gets mad, and their dad gets mad, and then he pulls out the belt - but he's scared, and he doesn't care if she gets mad, because he just has to know she's okay, but she's not waking up-

and he's sitting in a hospital, alone, bandages wrapped around his wrists and the room so _achingly_ silent.

It hurts, hurts in a place that used to have something, have _someone_ , and he closes his eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling-

and then he's standing outside, his head bowed and hood pulled over it, and the case worker is staring at him, with that expression of _sheer disgust_ he's become so familiar with.

He doesn't bother retelling his story. Nobody listens, anyways.

He grips the sleeves of his two-sizes-too-big jacket as tightly as he can, trying to summon up memories of warm classrooms and home-cooked meals and _someone who believed in him_ , and the case worker tells him to grab his things, and his heart shatters at his feet-

and he's kneeling on the carpet, two people pinning him to the ground and blood spilling from his nose.

"Beg," the CEO spits, grabbing the leather loop around his neck and forcing his head back, and he can't breathe, can't see, can't think, there's blood dripping off his chin and onto the floor, and it stains the carpet a deep, deep brown, and he _can't breathe_ -

* * *

He jolts awake, hand coming up to grip the fabric of his pajamas, and his breath comes out in short gasps, chest heaving with the force of his terror.

...he hates nightmares.

You'd think they'd lose their potency after experiencing them night after night after night, but if anything, they just gain it.

He slides out of bed, heart hammering in his chest, and he sidesteps Jaewon, heading for the kitchen.

He doesn't turn on the lights.

He does this most nights, after all. 

An hour and a bit of work later, he's sipping on cocoa and playing his cat game ( _yes_ , he checks it around five times a day. his cats deserve it, okay?) when a shriek rings through the air, and the mug slips from his fingers, landing on the floor and spilling its contents over the hardwood.

Dongho hardly notices.

 _That was Jaewon's scream_.

He sprints to his room, slippers pounding against the wood, and he throws the door open, gaze scanning the room for any overexcited intruders.

There's nothing.

Just Jaewon, lying next to his bed.

"No!" the redhead screams, and Dongho races forwards, reaching up to grab the elder's flailing hands. "No- please- stop-"

"Jaewon!"

Jaewon's eyes fly open, and he jolts upright, chest heaving as his gaze drops to his knees. God, he looks so scared - his eyes wide and grip white-knuckled on his (Dongho's) sweatpants - and Dongho has _no idea what to do_.

"You're safe," he finally murmurs, placing a hand on Jaewon's shoulder. "She can't get to you here."

Jaewon sucks in a ragged breath, mashing his face into his knees, and Dongho's heart aches with familiarity.

God, does he know how hard it is to believe that.

(he knows he doesn't believe that, most days.)

He blinks, and Jaewon rockets into his chest, burying his face in the fabric of Dongho's (probably designer) t-shirt and wrapping his arms around his back. Dongho stiffens - there's no real guide for what to do when your casual acquaintance hugs you like this - but Jaewon just...

Jaewon seems to need this.

(Dongho may or may not need this as well.)

He wraps his arms around Jaewon's back, pressing the elder's face into his shoulder, and he tugs the redhead closer so his legs won't get caught under Dongho's calves, noting with some relief the way Jaewon relaxes into his touch.

"Sorry," Jaewon mumbles, and Dongho hums acknowledgement, rubbing slow circles into the elder's back.

"It's alright. I was awake already."

"...have you done this before?"

Dongho pauses for a moment, unsure of what to say - because while _yes, he has_ , the last time he did this was when he was ten and Jun was going to leave with his adopted parents the next day-

Side-tangent. Stop.

"No," he lies, and Jaewon hums, eyes sliding shut.

...god, Dongho's about to do something so fucking moronic.

He hoists Jaewon into his arms and places the redhead on his bed, pressing a free pillow into his arms and tugging the messy sheets up over his shoulders. 

Jaewon looks even smaller like this, he decides - the only thing visible his head and bright red hair - and Dongho exhales, the motion disturbing a few locks of bronze-blond hair.

...today's not going to be a day for mirrors.

Well, if he's going to be awake, the least he can do is be productive.

He grabs his laptop, a notebook, and a few pens before heading to the living room, one thought on his mind.

He's gonna find them a dorm.

* * *

When Jaewon wakes up, the room is empty.

He rolls over, checking the alarm clock - _6:41am_ \- and then promptly freaks the fuck out, because _this isn't his bed_.

This bed is soft, smelling like fabric softener and something Jaewon can only describe as _rich_. It's not his bed - his bed with the lumpy pillows and threadbare sheets - and as his gaze flits around the room, his memories of the day prior slowly trickle in.

...oh, god, he hugged Dongho.

He _hugged Dongho_. Not even hugged - clung to him like a _fucking koala_. He _koala'd Dongho_.

Oh, god, he probably made Dongho so uncomfortable.

He struggles out of the sheets - Dongho has a _big bed, what the fuck_ \- and stumbles into the living room, bare feet loud against cold wood.

And _oh_.

Dongho's asleep on the couch, cheek mashed against the armrest and one arm nearly brushing the floor. Mugs are strewn over the table, each in varying states of emptiness, and his laptop's still on, a notebook and pencil next to it.

...how long ago did he fall asleep?

Jaewon picks up a blanket from the basket next to the couch - they're all perfectly folded, and seemingly never used - and drapes it over Dongho's shoulders, shutting the laptop and picking up a few mugs before heading to the kitchen.

...Dongho was awake already last night, wasn't he?

Jaewon washes out the mugs on autopilot, water cascading over his fingers as his mind drifts elsewhere. Dongho was already awake last night, so he either didn't sleep, or woke up from nightmares, and given that he didn't actually see Dongho go to bed-

For a moment, the irrational thought of _what if I made him sleep?_ pops into his mind, and he fumbles the mug in his hands, dropping it into the sink with a resounding clatter. It's not broken, thankfully - Dongho would definitely be upset if it was - but it does seem to have a small chip around the rim.

 _Dongho's probably going to throw it out_ , Jaewon dismally muses, pulling it out of the sink and rubbing it with a towel. It's a nice mug, too - a decal cat on the front with its tail wrapped around the handle - so he hopes Dongho might not throw it away, but given how much money he has, he'll probably just buy a new one.

That's a sobering thought.

Jaewon doesn't belong here - doesn't belong in this apartment where any one thing probably costs more than a full year of his rent. He belongs back home, in a shitty studio apartment with drafty windows and thin walls.

He feels like a fraud just standing here.

"You're up?"

Jaewon manages not to drop the mug this time, but it's a close thing.

Dongho's leaning against the doorframe, blond hair a mess and dark circles under his dull eyes. He looks like he just got hit by a truck, Jaewon decides, stepping by to let Dongho head for the coffeepot.

And, well-

Jaewon's addicted to coffee, but this is just... terrifying. 

"Hyung," Jaewon tries, heading over to grasp the coffee mug in Dongho's hands, "when was the last time you slept?"

"Last night," Dongho frowns, and Jaewon shakes his head.

"For more than four hours?"

Dongho pauses for a moment, and that's enough for Jaewon to gently pull the mug from his hands, placing it on the counter next to him with a soft sigh. "Hyung, we don't have anything going on today. You should try and get more sleep."

"I'm fine," Dongho insists, reaching over to try and grab the mug. "I just need to wake up."

"Hyung," Jaewon tries, and Dongho sighs, reaching up to rub his eyes. 

"I'm fine, Jaewon-ah. Do you want to watch something?"

"Ah- have you seen _Spirited Away_?"

* * *

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Dongho falls asleep in the first ten minutes of _Spirited Away_.

Correction: the surprise is not that Dongho's asleep. It's that he's asleep _on Jaewon_.

More accurately, Dongho is asleep on Jaewon's shoulder, arms wrapped around a throw pillow and legs pulled up to his chest. 

To further elaborate: Dongho, the member of MAYHEM Jaewon has barely spoken to before and is honestly kind of afraid of, is currently asleep on his shoulder, lips slightly parted and bleached-blond hair eclipsing his eyes, and he looks _young_.

Jaewon's honestly not sure how to handle this.

There's always been something about Dongho that's larger-than-life - the perks of growing up rich - but in this moment, he just looks _small_.

Jaewon reaches up to thread his fingers through the elder's hair, and Dongho exhales, eyelids fluttering as he leans into his touch. He's going to fall into Jaewon's lap, he can _tell_ , so before it happens, he snags a throw pillow from the side of the couch and shoves it over his thighs. 

It's not a moment too soon. Dongho's head slips off his shoulder and lands easily on the pillow in his lap, and Jaewon sighs in relief, hand coming to rest in the elder's hair. It's clearly damaged, bleached to the point where it resembles straw more than hair, but Jaewon busies himself with untangling the dried-out strands regardless, gaze drifting back to the laptop as his fingers coax knots out of Dongho's hair. 

This is nice. Being here with Dongho - it's nice.

He's not sure how much time passes, only that by the time the movie's done, the sun's bright overhead and his phone is exploding at his side. He spares it a glance - it's Daehyun and Minsoo bickering again - and flicks it off, turning his attention back to the sleeping man in his lap. 

Dongho looks _small_.

With the bright light streaming through the window, it's easy to see the dark circles rimming his eyes, and as Jaewon looks closer, he can see the faintest hint of a scar just above the elder's eyebrow. His roots are just starting to grow in, bits of black visible amidst the blond, and one hand grips the pillow in Jaewon's lap for dear life, knuckles white around the cloth. 

Is he having a nightmare?

Jaewon reaches down to brush the scar with his thumb, and before he can react, Dongho jolts awake, shooting upright and grabbing Jaewon's wrist.

He's looking but not seeing, Jaewon can tell, and as Dongho shoves his wrist against the armrest, he does the only logical thing to do in this situation.

"H-Hyung?"

Did he say logical? He meant moronic.

Still, it seems to clear _something_ from Dongho's mind, since he drops Jaewon's wrist and slides away, but Jaewon still has no idea what the _fuck_ that was, and, honestly?

He's kind of scared.

There was _something_ in Dongho's eyes for an instant - something desperate, something _scared_ \- and a deep, deep part of himself says that he should be scared of that, too.

But this is _Dongho_. This is one of his two hyungs, the one who runs dance practice and checks their steps and brings protein bars for anyone who forgot to eat breakfast. This is _Dongho_.

...though if he thinks about it, that expression on his face earlier - small, tiny, scared - was Dongho too. 

"I'm going to make breakfast," Dongho abruptly states, and Jaewon watches as he slides his slippers on, all but sprinting to the kitchen in his haste to escape.

...what was that?

* * *

**ahn jaewon added lee minsoo and kim daehyun to the chat**

**ahn jaewon set the chat name as "dongho-hyung update chat! ^W^"**

**lee minsoo**  
what is this

**lee minsoo changed their name to leader minmin**

**lee minsoo changed kim daehyun's name to daedaehyung**

**lee minsoo changed ahn jaewon's name to wonnie**

**wonnie**  
I'm staying at Dongho-hyung's place for the night, and I'm a little worried about him

 **leader minmin**  
yea but y tho  
hes weird  
thats like  
95% of his personality??

 **daedaehyung**  
what's up, jaewon-ah?

 **wonnie**  
We were watching a movie, and he fell asleep on my lap

 **leader minmin**  
ok that is weird

 **wonnie**  
Did you know hyung has a scar above his eyebrow?

 **leader minmin**  
stalker much? (¬_¬)

 **daedaehyung**  
soo.  
go on, jaewon-ah ^^

 **leader minmin**  
he used punctuation (゜ロ゜)

 **wonnie**  
I, uh...  
Wait, this was dumb, I'm sorry

 **daedaehyung**  
if it's worrying you then it isn't dumb  
we won't judge you ^^

 **leaderminmin**  
he won't judge you

 **daedaehyung**  
Soo.  
go on jaewon-ah ^W^

 **wonnie**  
I, uh...  
i toiuchged his scra

 **daedaehyung**  
oh

 **wonnie**  
And he grabbed my wrist and slammed me against the couch

 **daedaehyung**  
OH

 **leaderminmin**  
i mean u did touch him while he was sleeping

 **wonnie**  
...he looked scared, Minsoo-yah

 **leaderminmin**  
u sure?  
he has rbf

 **daedaehyung**  
isn't that a medical treatemnt  
treatment*

 **leaderminmin**  
resting bitch face

 **daedaehyung**  
no he doesn't!!!!

 **leaderminmin**  
r u Sure abt that

 **wonnie**  
I'm worried about him...

 **daedaehyung**  
maybe keep an eye on him?  
send any updates to the chat

 **leaderminmin**  
i still don't think anything's wrong  
hes just weird

 **daedaehyung**  
didn't you once find fifteen protein bars in his workout bag?

 **leaderminmin**  
he's Weird

 **wonnie**  
Oh  
He's heading out to meet the CEO

 **leaderminmin**  
wot???  
y

 **wonnie**  
I don't know...

 **daedaehyung**  
you should eat, jaewon-ah ^^  
minsoo-yah and i have to go but  
make sure to eat!!!

 **leaderminmin**  
o and b4 i forget

**leaderminmin set the chat name to "dongho is fucking weird you guise"**

**leaderminmin**  
there

 **daedaehyung**  
-_-

* * *

In all honesty, the fact that Dongho has a plan is the only thing keeping him from sprinting right out the door.

It feels odd, going to the CEO's office without wearing a strip of leather - and _god_ , does he hate that - and it feels even odder going there of his own accord, but this isn't about him.

This is about Jaewon.

He knocks on the door, and papers rustle for a moment before the CEO calls for him to enter, voice falsely amicable. 

God, does he not want to be here.

"This is a surprise," the CEO hums, and Dongho nods, pulling the doort shut behind him. "What is this about?"

"...a saseng broke into Jaewon's apartment yesterday."

"Oh?"

The CEO's eyes spark with interest, and Dongho nods, trying to calm the rabbit-beating of his heart. "Because of that, I don't think it's safe for Jaewon to stay at his apartment any longer, nor is it safe for him to stay at mine."

"...he's staying at your apartment?"

God, is Dongho glad he's not wearing the collar right now.

"It wasn't safe for him to stay at his apartment any longer," he tries, but any hint of amicability has slipped from the CEO's face, and _Dongho is fucked_.

"And what was your plan if he found out your secret?"

"..."

"What was your plan if he found out the truth about you? How were you going to tell him you're a dirty, worthless, _hopeless_ street rat?"

Dongho pulls his lower lip between his teeth, gaze falling to the dark stain on the carpet. 

_Don't think about it_.

"What were you going to say?"

A hand grabs his chin, yanking his head forwards, and he hisses as his knee slams into the desk, pain shooting through the limb.

"What was your plan, _Dongho_?"

"...that's why I'm suggesting MAYHEM should get a dorm."

Silence reigns supreme for a moment, and Dongho can only sit there, terrified, as the CEO's hand falls into his lap, the man's expression turning completely blank for a moment.

"You think you should get a _dorm_?"

"Not me," Dongho explains, pulling out a few papers and placing them on the able. "The other three. They live pretty far from the company now, and I found some pretty cheap apartments nearby, so-"

The CEO slaps him.

Dongho can only sit there, a cry of pain trapped behind his teeth, as the CEO rises from his seat and moves to stand behind him. One hand tangles in his bleached-to-fuck hair, while the other hovers around his throat, and the CEO clicks his tongue at the sight of his bare and damaged neck.

"You're not wearing it."

"...we're on break-"

The CEO yanks his head back, and Dongho shuts up, gaze flitting to the ceiling as he struggles for breath. It's one thing when the collar's cutting off his air, but quite another for it to be his own lungs.

"Do I need to do another _demonstration_?"

All the blood in Dongho's veins turns to ice.

( _a boot on his face, blood dripping down his chin, leather hooked around his neck and taunting words tainted with venom-_ )

"...no, sir."

"Good."

The CEO releases his grip on his hair, and Dongho exhales, scalp aching despite the pressure having been removed. Still, he doesn't reach up to rub it.

That's not proper, after all.

"I might take your suggestion into consideration," the CEO hums, lips curling into a sadistic grin. "After all, it wouldn't do to have the group's biggest moneymaker be out of commission."

He doesn't need to say what's going to happen. Dongho already knows. 

The CEO's going to call Jaewon in and put the dorm on the line with a scandal over the sasaeng, and Jaewon's going to do it, and _nothing is ever going to change_. 

"Get out of here," the CEO commands, and Dongho scrambles to his feet, all too grateful for the quick getaway. "Oh- and one more thing? Tell Jaewon I want to meet with him."

...nothing is going to change.

It never has, and never will.

* * *

There's something _confusing_ about Dongho, Minsoo thinks.

He's a walking enigma. He's a lead dancer who's oddly clumsy - even on the dance floor. He's both cold and oddly warm, both strong but vulnerable.

Minsoo _doesn't get it_.

He doesn't understand why Dongho's a lead dancer if he's this clumsy. He doesn't understand why Dongho keeps pushing him away, even after they've known each other for years.

He doesn't understand why Dongho feels so _fake_.

It's been like this ever since they first met, too. Minsoo thought Dongho was younger than him at first - something about the look in his eyes - but the CEO introduced him as someone three years his senior, and that was that.

 _Still_.

Minsoo would honestly be lying if he said he didn't resent Dongho quite a bit. It's an open secret that he bought his way into the company - he doesn't have the dancing skill to make it on his own, after all, so there's really no other explanation - and the fact that he _so easily_ achieved what Minsoo struggled to do for so long-

it _rankles_.

But, even despite the blatant bribery, Minsoo still can't bring himself to hate Dongho.

Why?

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he's _not_ a stuck-up ass. Contrary to popular belief, Dongho is actually pretty alright to hang around - even if he and Minsoo don't talk as often as they used to - and he's definitely the most sensible member of their group by a _long shot_. And sure, Minsoo's not as close with him as he used to be - he's closest with Daehyun now, since they both share a love for music and video games and low-quality memes - and even when they _were_ close, he didn't know a lot about him, but Dongho's never been actively antagonistic or rude, so that's _definitely_ a pro.

Dongho's just... _weird_. He's so contradictory in the oddest of ways, seemingly swapping between personalities on a whim, and the question that Minsoo's never been able to answer is _why_?

Why is Dongho pretending - either one way or the other?

(why is Dongho hiding?)

* * *

"The CEO wants to see you tomorrow."

Jaewon chokes on his coffee.

Dongho takes a seat across from him, hands wrapped around a mug and lips pursed in a frown, and Jaewon-

doesn't know what to say.

There's _something_ in his eyes, but it's not reproach like Jaewon would suspect. No, this is something different - something more vulnerable and pained and _kind_.

Jaewon's not used to seeing this kind of kindness in Dongho's eyes, and he doesn't really know what to do with it. 

"Did he say why?" he finally asks, and Dongho's expression flickers, a sort of self-imposed silence drowning out any sort of kindness. 

"No."

Lie.

They lapse into a somewhat comfortable silence, and Dongho stares down into his mug, dark hair eclipsing his eyes. He's _odd_ , Jaewon thinks - not _worrying_ , not in this moment - but so many things just _don't line up_.

For instance:

Dongho's still wearing his slippers, feet nearly hidden by the hems of his designer pants but visible nonetheless. He's wearing makeup - which, as Jaewon knows well, is all but required to meet with the CEO - but he hasn't made any move to take it off, nor does he seem to acknowledge his existence. And, most damningly, he's drinking from the mug Jaewon chipped just that morning.

Why?

Why would Dongho, someone who has everything, care so much about something so meaningless?

The elder places the mug on the table, dark gaze flitting to meet Jaewon's, and for just an instant, the red-haired man sees _something else_ amidst the cold eyes and pursed lips. Not even just something else - something _more_. Something kinder and softer and more loving and just... just _more_.

It's gone as soon as it came.

Most things with Dongho tend to do as much.

"You should get ready," Dongho murmurs, leaning over to coax the mug from Jaewon's hands. "You don't want to keep him waiting."

And that-

that should've been a red flag.

Not even just the _words_ , but his _tone_ \- bitter hopelessness laced with resignation - and _god_ , Jaewon should've noticed. He should've noticed, should've seen, should've picked up on any of the dozens of hints scattered to and fro - the chipped mug, the slippers, the way everything smelled like detergent and air freshener - but he _didn't_.

God, he should've.

"Yeah," Jaewon murmurs, pushing himself off the couch. "Thank you, hyung."

Dongho doesn't reply.

* * *

**meyhrm**

**maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
do i hear we're getting a dorm??? :OOOOOOOOOO

 **maknae: red edition**  
Yeah!  
The CEO said he'd get something set up by tomorrow ^W^

 **hyungles 1**  
!!!!!!!!  
dorm movie nights!!!  
dorm movie nights ! ! !  
we're gonna watch ALL the movies!!!!!

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
who's rooming w who?  
as the leader i should get my own room >:3

 **maknae: red edition**  
I think it's going to be two bedroom...

 **Kang Dongho**  
Minsoo can have a room to himself.  
I'm not moving in with you guys.

 **hyungles 1**  
wh  
why???????

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
why not???????????????

 **maknae: red edition**  
Really? D:

 **Kang Dongho**  
Yeah.  
As for why I'm not... that's none of your business.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
of course it's my business!!!!!  
i'm the team leader!!!!!  
if you have an issue with us i have to know!!!!

 **Kang Dongho**  
That's not it.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
then what is?

 **Kang Dongho**  
It's not any of your business.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
you keep saying that but i need to Know hyung

 **Kang Dongho**  
I don't really care if you're upset about this or not.  
I don't even care if you know.  
It makes no difference to me.  
But you don't have a right to know anything about my life.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
god ur so fucking pretentious  
i'm glad ur not moving in if this is the bullshit you're gonna do

 **hyungles 1**  
minsoo!!

 **maknae: red edition**  
Ah, Minsoo-yah...

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
i'm fucking RIGHT  
he's being an ASS

 **Kang Dongho**  
I don't owe you anything, Minsoo.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
says the dancer who can't even fucking dance

 **hyungles 1**  
both of you

 **Kang Dongho**  
Excuse me?

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
you fucking reek of nepotism

 **hyungles 1**  
that's Enough guys

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
everyone knows you just got in the group so daddy would fund the company

 **Kang Dongho**  
How dare you?

 **hyungles 1**  
Guys, stop.

 **Kang Dongho**  
You have no fucking idea what I've done to get here, Minsoo.  
Don't you dare pretend like you do.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
oh yeah, cause it's so hard to be born

 **hyungles 1**  
BOTH OF YOU   
THAT'S ENOUGH  
Minsoo, what the FUCK.  
Dongho, don't engage him.  
Both of you, go and calm the fuck down.  
We're moving in tomorrow (or I hope we are), and I expect both of you to be over your shit.  
Step the fuck up or step out.  
None of us have time for this shit.

 **maknae leader lee minsoo!!!!**  
...

 **hyungles 1**   
I'm going to bed.  
Have a good night, Jaewon-ah ^^  
You two, get your shit together.

* * *

Dongho sighs, leaning over to toss his phone across the bed. It's nearly seven - late, but still relatively early - and he would honestly be fine with just lying here for the rest of the day.

Should he be flattered that Minsoo accused him of nepotism?

On the plus side, it means his acting is good enough to fool someone into thinking he actually has rich parents. On the negative side, it means that his dancing - one of the few things he's ever been able to pride himself on - is _so_ shit that Minsoo thought he had to _buy his way into the group_.

He exhales, gaze drifting to the bright ceiling overhead. It's still the same garish white it was when he moved in - every color was hand-picked to be as pretentious as possible, after all, so he can't change it - and in the horrible shade, he finds an almost sort of painful familiarity.

He's not good enough. Never has been.

He's known for a long time that all the people that said Choi Dongho was worth something were wrong - a grand total of two people as compared to the hundreds who said otherwise - but it still hurts every time it's thrown back in his face.

Jun's idol-worship was a mistake. Mr. Kim's efforts were mistakes.

In the end, he was never worth much of anything.

He's not sure how long he lies there, staring at everything and nothing, but at some point, the door creaks back open, a harsh "thud" ringing through the air.

In some distant part of him, Dongho cares. In that distant part, he's worried, because _what will Jaewon think, seeing him like this_?

in a much closer and yet immeasurably further part, he doesn't care at all.

His throat aches, his chest aches, and everything's blanketed in _numbness_. Nothing matters, so why even try?

"Hyung...?"

Dongho musters all his energy to roll over, and _oh_ , Jaewon's standing at the door, Dongho's jacket hanging off his shoulders and worry written over his face.

Ah.

He did that, didn't he?

"Yeah?" he rasps, wincing at the gravel-roughness of his voice. "What's wrong?"

"You were just lying there..." Jaewon murmurs, gaze falling to his feet. "I was worried something was wrong."

 _God_ , he doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve to be called hyung, doesn't deserve concern, doesn't deserve _Jaewon_. He deserves-

he deserves to be dead.

But Jaewon's standing there, pain flickering in his eyes, and so Dongho pats the bed next to him, falling back to the pillows with a soft sigh.

It's odd, being like this - vaguely detached from himself and yet still painfully present - but he chooses to savor it while it lasts, instead opting to stare at the ceiling once more.

"Hyung..."

Dongho's too tired to respond.

The bed dips, and someone reaches out to grasp his arm - _Jaewon, it's Jaewon_ \- but his breath catches in his throat nonetheless.

Stupid, traitorous thing.

"Hyung, can I..."

And Jaewon's voice is cracking, high and low in all the wrong places, and that distant part of Dongho wants to move, wants to shake it off, wants to pretend like nothing's wrong, but that part is blanketed under numbness and apathy, so he doesn't reply.

"Can I hug you?"

Dongho hums, and it must come off as an agreement, because Jaewon leans forwards, wrapping one arm around Dongho's chest and pulling him close.

And _oh_.

When was the last time someone hugged him like this?

All tension seeps from his bones as he relaxes into Jaewon's touch, and a hand comes up to rest in his hair, gently coaxing out tangles and occasionally scratching gently at his scalp. It's nice - _so, so nice_ \- and he sighs, resting his forehead on Jaewon's shoulder as the elder's gentle ministrations continue.

He hates this. Hates lying, hates the fact that he looks like his mother, hates the fact that Choi Dongho is all but dead, hates that he's _still here_ -

Breathe.

 _Blink_ , and there's a blanket over his shoulders, the lights dim and door slightly ajar. _Blink_ , and it's dark outside, Jaewon lying next to him with lips slightly parted.

 _Blink_ , and it's morning.

* * *

**dongho is fucking weird you guise**

**wonnie**  
So I know we were gonna drop it but  
Hyung's just been... lying there?  
For five hours?

 **daedaehyung**  
what????

 **leaderminmin**  
wot

 **wonnie**  
He hasn't moved  
He doesn't respond when I talk to him  
He's just... lying there

 **daedaehyung**  
have you tried touching him?

 **wonnie**  
I managed to get his slippers off and get him under the covers  
He's still just lying there hyung  
I don't know what to do

 **daedaehyung**  
what's his address?

 **wonnie**  
Why?

 **daedaehyung**  
i'm coming over to check on him

 **leaderminmin**  
the fuck u r  
we're going home tomorrow  
keep ur mother henning on lock for 12 hours

 **daedaehyung**  
>:(

 **wonnie**  
...  
Did you know hyung talks in his sleep?

 **daedaehyung**  
what's this?

 **wonnie**  
He keeps calling for someone  
I think their name is Jin?

 **leaderminmin**  
Refer To Chat Name

 **daedaehyung**  
minsoo, shut your fuck  
jaewon-ah, i'll be over tomorrow morning if he isn't any better  
can you handle it until then?

 **wonnie**  
Yeah!  
You don't need to come home early for me though ^^;

 **daedaehyung**  
trust me, it's not about you

 **leaderminmin**  
i Said i was sorry

 **daedaehyung**  
not to dongho  
you should get some rest, jaewon-ah ^W^  
and before i forget

**daedaehyung set the chat name to bingbingbing**

**daedaehyung**  
good night :DDDDDDDDD

 **leaderminmin**  
hyung why

 **daedaehyung**  
Good Night : D D D D D D

 **leaderminmin**  
Understandable Have A Nice Day

* * *

When Dongho finally comes back to himself, it's with the sudden realization that _he did not have time to waste_.

He jolts upright, the blankets tangling around his ankles as he stares down at his hands, and _holy shit_ he didn't even change out of yesterday's clothes. His slippers are sitting by the bed - thank god for those - but other than that, he hasn't been moved at all.

Honestly, he's not sure if that's a pro or a con.

He reaches up to rake a hand through his hair, grimacing as the bright strands fall in his face. What if Jaewon saw? What if Jaewon noticed?

What if Jaewon realized he's not the person he says he is?

His hand falls to his throat, instinctively rubbing at the fabric of his turtleneck, and he exhales, losing himself in the familiar feeling of fabric against his raw neck and hand for a moment.

It shouldn't be as comforting as it is. 

Then again, Dongho's always been something of a masochist.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed once he's sure they'll support his weight, tugging on his slippers and stumbling to the door. There are always a few moments of acclimation where he stumbles around like a newborn deer, center of balance shifting to accommodate the extra height, and _god_ would it be embarrassing if Jaewon saw that.

Luckily, there's no one around, so Dongho's able to stumble to the kitchen, head throbbing with something he tentatively identifies as _too much sleep_. Is that a thing? Probably.

He catches sight of Jaewon as soon as he enters the room, the older man sitting at the table with a mug of coffee in his hands and his phone in front of him. He dips his head in a silent hello, stumbling over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a mug, and he'd have to be a fool to ignore the way Jaewon's eyes bore into his back, never leaving even as he grabs a box of cereal.

"Hyung-"

Jaewon cuts himself off, a hint of uncertainty seeping into his voice, and _man_ , the urge to run is _strong_ right now. Could Dongho just leave? Probably not.

"What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing," Dongho simply replies, pulling a bowl out of the cupboard.

"Hyung..."

He can hear the disappointment - can hear the _pain_ \- but things like that have long-since stopped having an affect on him, so he's able to hold his tongue.

"I'm fine," he states, pouring cereal into his bowl. "Aren't you guys moving in today?"

"...I can stay longer if you want me to..."

 _Yes_ , a distant, distant part of Dongho screams, _stay, stay, I don't want to be alone, please don't leave me alone-_

"No," he states, and feels his secrets crawling over his back. "You should move in with the others."

Jaewon's eyes flicker with something - hurt, maybe? - and his gaze drops to his lap, fingers tangling in the fabric of his jeans. 

"...if you're sure, hyung."

It'd be nice to live with someone, Dongho thinks, be nice to _not_ be so achingly alone, but _oh_ , he has too many secrets, has too many things to hide, and he can't jeopardize that for _comfort_.

"Yeah," he murmurs, pulling a spoon out of the drawer and plopping it into his cereal. "I'm sure."

He doesn't look at Jaewon's response this time.

(can't bear to see the pain in his eyes.)

* * *

Once they're done unpacking, they convene in the living room.

This isn't an official meeting - none of them decided to call the others in here - but they've all drifted here of their own accord, sprawling over the couch and chairs and keeping silent.

What's there to say?

The dorm feels empty with only three of them here, feels hollow without their stabilizing presence, and _oh_ , it's selfish that they want Dongho here - want him to stop living in the lap of luxury for their own comfort - but the feeling persists.

He's never been good at ignoring his feelings, Minsoo thinks, drumming an abstract sort of melody on his knee. _Especially_ not when they're this contradictory.

On the one hand, he resents him. On the other, they're friends.

...are they really, though?

"Why would you say that?" Daehyun finally asks, voice soft and dull, and Minsoo picks at the fabric of his jeans, _guilt_ washing over him.

God, he never wanted to disappoint Daehyun. Never wanted to disappoint someone who cares so much, never wanted Daehyun to look at him with those _sad sad_ eyes and ask _why_?

"...it's not just my fault," Minsoo finally mumbles, and Daehyun sighs, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Minsoo-yah, he didn't retaliate at all."

"..."

"What are you so upset about?"

"It's not fair."

Minsoo digs his nails into his thighs, old resentment bubbling to the surface once more. "It's not _fair_ that he gets a free ride while we've all had to work. It's not _fair_ he gets good positions even though he's not that good. It's _not fair_ he's rich and has amazing parents and gets to chase his dreams when-"

He cuts himself off, but it doesn't matter.

They all know what he was going to say.

"...Minsoo-yah," Daehyun murmurs, and Minsoo sighs as the couch dips next to him, one lanky arm wrapping around his shoulders. "Is this... is this about Minsung-ah?"

"Minsung?" Jaewon asks, and Minsoo pulls his lower lip between his teeth, old pain washing over him.

"...my brother. He's three years older, so I don't know him very well, but..."

 _It hurts to always exist in someone's shadow_.

"Do you wanna... do you wanna talk about it?"

Truth be told, Minsoo never really wanted to talk about it in the first place. Fuck, _Daehyun_ was never supposed to know, and if not for the disastrous family dinner that led to Minsoo crying in a company bathroom at three am, he never would've.

And yet-

Jaewon should know, he thinks. Jaewon, as a member of MAYHEM, his hyung, and his friend... he should know.

"...for my entire life, I was always in Minsung's shadow..."

* * *

It's nearly five am when he finishes his first draft.

The man pushes back from his desk, cracking his knuckles and leaning back into his desk chair, and he exhales, a long groan escaping his lips.

 _Fuck_ art school. He loves it, of course he does, but _fuck this shit_.

His gaze roams over the space - half-finished drawings tacked to each wall, anatomical studies rendered in charcoal and pencil strewn over the table, figurines and posters occupying the space behind his bed - and he exhales once more, tipping his head back to stare into the ceiling.

God, he wants hot chocolate.

A few minutes later, he's scrubbing charcoal off his fingers as the kettle boils, and his phone chimes in his pocket, his older sister's text tone ringing through the air.

Of course.

He wipes his hands on his sweatpants and fishes out his phone, grimacing at the sight of multiple missed texts and calls. It's _nice_ , having someone to check in on him, but it's not...

Ugh.

His phone buzzes with a call, and he taps to accept it, padding over to the dishwasher and pulling out a mug. "Noona, what the fuck...?"

_"Yah! Choi Junsu! You better have slept!"_

"Nope," he easily replies, popping the "p" as he pulls out a packet. "I'm going to soon, but haven't yet."

_"What did I just say? You better not miss today's shift!"_

"I won't," Jun sighs, pouring hot water into his mug. "You have no faith in me."

_"Yeah! I don't! Because you miss everything!"_

"Noona."

_"Anyways, how's your project coming along?"_

Jun sighs, pulling out a spoon and plopping it in his drink. "I'm stuck again."

_"Really?"_

"I know what I'm going to do for most of them, but the last one..."

_"...you're stuck on him again, aren't you?"_

"Yeah."

He picks up his mug and heads for the living room, his phone still pressed to his ear. "I just... I _know_ he's probably dead, noona, I just..."

_"...I get it, Junsu. If it was you... I'd feel the same."_

"Thanks, noona."

_"Don't mention it. Now go and get some rest."_

"Alright. Good night, Nari-noona."

_"Good night, Jun."_

* * *

The day after the others move into the dorms, Dongho gets a call from the CEO. 

It's as clipped as it always is - "Come in for a meeting today at one" - but it does nothing to lessen the gnawing knot of anxiety in Dongho's core.

What if Jaewon told someone about what happened?

(what if Jaewon knows?)

He pulls on a turtleneck and jeans, fluffing up his blond hair as he slides on his shoes, and _fuck_ , he hates his reflection. 

Dull eyes, dark rings, bruises peeking out from under the collar of his turtleneck-

it's impossible not to see his mother.

(more now than usual.)

He should really cover that mirror, he thinks, pulling a cap over his hair and heading out the door. Not that he'd be allowed to, but it's the thought that matters.

A walk that normally takes fifteen minutes now takes closer to thirty, mostly because Dongho's dragging his feet. It's easy enough to find something to distract himself - a game or a window display or something similar - and he fiddles with the rim of his cap in lieu of gnawing on his lower lip, a faint revulsion washing over him at the sight of his perfectly manicured nails.

God, he hates this.

Still, he has to go to the meeting eventually.

The ride up the elevator is as stress-inducing as it always is, and the click of his boots are far too loud on the pristine tile. It's terrifying enough coming here with no idea of what he's done wrong, but to be entering with the full knowledge that Jaewon could know-

well.

His heart thunders in his ears as he knocks on the door, perfectly manicured nails carving jagged crescents into his palms.

Breathe. 

_Breathe._

"Come in, D.Min."

D.Min.

A flicker of formality.

It gives him hope that maybe, _just maybe_ , this meeting won't be as bad as the last.

He pushes the door open, and all his hopes shatter at his feet.

The CEO's seated at his desk, yes, but so is his manager.

_No._

"I'm sure you know why you're here," the CEO hums, gesturing to the open seat next to him. "Take a seat."

Was the manager there? Did he see what happened the last time?

He must have been, right?

Dongho crosses the room on numb legs, falling into the chair next to his manager, and the CEO grins, wide and greasy and _horrific_.

"Your manager tells me Daehyun and Wyld expressed some concerns for your well-being recently. Care to explain that?"

He can't.

His heart is pounding in his ears and his mouth is dry and his lips won't move and _he can't say a word_.

The CEO's expression turns cold in an instant, and he rises from his chair, rounding the desk to hook a finger under the collar of his turtleneck. 

"...you're not wearing it."

"It hurts my n-"

_Don't talk back._

The CEO grabs his hair and wrenches his head back, a choked cry escaping his lips as his scalp protests the movement. It _stings_ , locks of damaged hair coming out in the man's grasp, and _he can't breathe-_

"Ungrateful," the CEO spits, and Dongho tries not to wince as droplets land on his face. "We give you a house and a facility and _fame_ and you _still_ talk back to us? Ungrateful little _shit_ -"

He rips a fistful of hair out of Dongho's scalp, and he chokes on a gasp, eyes screwing shut on instinct.

_Don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook-_

" _I_ gave you those clothes! _I_ gave you your house and your group and your studios! You have _nothing_ without me!"

He's right.

"Without me, you'd be dead in a fucking alley somewhere!"

He's right.

"So _you listen to me, Dongho_. I _own you_."

He's right.

The CEO releases his grasp on Dongho's hair and he slumps forwards, ragged gasps escaping his lips.

His manager didn't stop it.

Dongho didn't expect him to.

Nobody intervenes in this company. Not if they want to keep their jobs.

A pudgy hand grabs his face and he flinches, the rough hand digging into his jaw as it turns his head one way and the other. _Fuck_ , he hates the feeling, hates being at someone's mercy like this, hates being manhandled like he's nothing more than _property_ -

but he is, isn't he?

He goes limp in the CEO's grasp, letting the man scrutinize him for a few long, painful minutes, and when the man finally steps back, it's with a completely blank expression.

"More dance practice. There's too much fat on his cheeks."

Dongho's no fool. He can hear what's between the lines.

_Do it, or I'll throw you right back out on the streets you came from._

"Yes, sir," he murmurs, dipping his head to stare down at his hands.

Perfectly manicured nails.

 _He owns this, too_.

"Oh, and just so you know-"

The CEO grips his chin and forces his head up, _fury_ burning in his eyes as they meet Dongho's own. "If you're going to keep being such a disappointment, you'd be more use dead."

The world fades into a dull roar.

 _Fuck_ , Dongho's always known that people have wanted him to die, but to hear that he's disappointing everyone _this much_ -

(to hear the fuel to the thoughts growing ever-louder in his head-)

he can't breathe.

_He can't breathe._

(more use dead, more use dead, _more use dead-_ )

"Get out of here," the CEO snaps, waving a hand in dismissal, and his manager grabs his wrist, hauling him out of the office and down the stairs.

Outside, as if sensing his mood, the first drops of rain pound against the windows.

* * *

If Minsoo had a list of things he wasn't expecting to see today, then running into _Kang Dongho_ in the lobby of HCE would be very near the top.

He's heading in to work on one of their new songs when he catches sight of a blond head sitting on one of the couches, and he blinks, taking a second look to confirm what he's seeing.

 _Surely_ Kang Dongho can't be sitting on the couch in the lobby. _Surely_.

And yet, that does look like Dongho, and he does seem to be staring at nothing, and Minsoo is... concerned? Almost?

He crosses the room, hiking his workout bag up on his shoulders, and he leans over to tap the elder's shoulder, concern mounting when Dongho doesn't immediately respond.

 _"He doesn't respond when I talk to him,"_ Jaewon had said, and _fuck_ , Minsoo sees what he means now.

"Hyung?" he tries, and _now_ Dongho seems to react, a flicker of _something_ settling in his dark eyes. It's nothing Minsoo has a name for, nothing he thinks he's ever felt, but it's small and weak and _sad_ , and _fuck_ does it hurt to see.

"Minsoo-yah?"

His voice is rough, Minsoo notes, rough and hoarse.

"How long have you been there?"

"I just got here," Minsoo hums, leaning in to rest his elbows on the couch. "...I'm sorry about what I said. A few days ago."

"Mm."

Dongho pushes some hair out of his face and tucks it behind his ear, gaze just as unnervingly dull as ever, and Minsoo-

what can he do?

"It's raining," he uselessly states, gesturing to the massive windows that look out on the street. "Do you have an umbrella?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm. Good."

They lapse into silence after that, the only sound the gentle pitter-patter of rain against the windows, and all Minsoo can wonder is _what made us this way?_

(what made him this jaded and cruel?)

"I should go," Dongho finally murmurs, fidgeting with the collar of his turtleneck. "I'll see you after break, Minsoo-yah."

"Ah- wait!"

Dongho turns, then, dull eyes flickering with the faintest spark of interest, and Minsoo falls silent, gaze dropping to his hands.

"...stay dry, hyung."

There's nothing else he can say. Even this much feels hollow.

(he's always done too little too late, hasn't he?)

The door swings shut behind Dongho with a quiet hiss of air, and Minsoo screws his eyes shut, trying to fight the wave of overwhelming _guilt_ that threatens to crash over him.

(too little too late _too little too late toolittletoolate-_ )

* * *

When Dongho gets home, he doesn't even bother to take off his shoes.

He doesn't bother to take off his dripping wet clothes, doesn't bother to wipe off his makeup or dry his sodden hair. No - instead, he just collapses into bed, gaze fixing on some distant point, and drifts.

It's easier than it should be.

Stress presses him down, the weight of hundreds upon hundreds of expectations weighing heavy on his shoulders, and thousands of beratements float around his mind, each one with different wording but the same message.

_You are nothing._

_You will always be nothing._

_You're worthless._

_You'll end up like your addict parents._

_I feel bad for Junsu, having a brother like you._

_That's what I'd expect from someone of his... background._

_If you're going to keep being such a disappointment, you'd be more use dead._

He's not even aware he's crying until the tears seep onto the comforter under him, and he jolts upright, reaching up to scrub his face with a sleeve.

...he should get changed. That... that'll help.

Nobody may give a shit about him, but if he wraps himself up in the memories of everyone who did, it'll help.

He kicks off his shoes and stumbles over to the dresser, throwing aside dozens of shirts he's never worn in search of the real treasure underneath. And _oh_ -

It's still here.

Nobody moved it.

He withdraws the first thing - a photo of him and the rest of MAYHEM - and places it on the dresser, Minsoo's accusations ringing in his mind.

Minsoo-

Minsoo doesn't like him. Probably never has.

He pulls out the second thing - the faded and torn photo of him and Mr. Kim - and he stares at it for a long, long moment.

_"The dancer who can't even fucking dance."_

God, Mr. Kim would be so disappointed to see him now.

He places the photo - gently, gently - face down on the dresser, the dull ache in his gut only growing.

He's such a fucking failure.

He withdraws the last item from the drawer, and his breath catches in his throat.

 _Jun_.

Jun, looking so small and so bright and so _happy_ , and Dongho-

Jun was always the better twin. Artistically inclined instead of scrappy and cruel, soft and gentle where Dongho was harsh and cold-

Their parents liked him better, too.

And it's- it's fine. He's glad Jun's the favorite.

Well. Was.

 _Fuck_ , his parents hated him. Hated him for being clingy, for being a crybaby, for being _born_ -

He blinks at the sight of a droplet of water on top of the polaroid, and he wipes it on his jeans, reaching up to scrub at his eyes with his sleeve.

Nobody would miss him.

He'd be doing the CEO a favor.

Fuck, if it was public enough, it might even get enough media attention to pay off MAYHEM's debts. Pay off their debts and free Jaewon from his scandals... 

Sometimes it seems like the only one who doesn't want him to die is him.

(sometimes he wonders if he wants to live at all.)

He places the photos back at the bottom of the drawer and pulls out his old winter coat, draping it over his shoulders as he crawls under the sheets. It's warm - warm and soft and _home_ \- and he exhales, eyes drifting shut.

...does he want to live?

( ~~the answer might be no, and that scares him.~~ )

* * *

**bingbingbing**

**leaderminmin**  
hey can someone pick up more chips

 **daedaehyung**  
got it!! ^W^  
the usual kind right?

 **leaderminmin**  
yea

 **daedaehyung**  
i gotchu  
hey unrelated but  
has anyone heard from dongho?

 **leaderminmin**  
i mean i saw him like,,,,, four days ago at the company  
y?

 **daedaehyung**  
i'm worried  
i haven't seen him around like i usually do  
you know he lurks

 **leaderminmin**  
he's a lurker

 **daedaehyung**  
he does lurk  
but you haven't seen him since then?

 **leaderminmin**  
no

 **wonnie**  
I haven't seen him either...

 **leaderminmin**  
o wait i'm getting a text  
birb

* * *

**manager >:(**

Minsoo-ssi?  
I'm messaging to see if you've heard from Dongho-ssi at all.

I haven't.  
Why?

None of us have heard from him.  
Not since last Friday.  
You really haven't heard anything?

No.  
Fuck.  
Do you think he's hurt?

I doubt it.  
He's probably just skipping.  
The CEO suggested extra dance practice, after all, so of course he'd try to skip.

Ah.  
Daehyun-hyung was just saying that he hadn't seen him either, so I don't think we can help.

I see.  
Don't worry about it, Minsoo-ssi.  
We'll handle it.

If you're sure...

Don't worry about it.  
Just focus on preparing for ISAC.

Alright.  
Let us know if anything changes.

* * *

**bingbingbing**

**leaderminmin**  
manager-hyung hasn't heard anything either

 **daedaehyung**  
really??  
fuck

 **leaderminmin**  
he told us to calm down and focus on isac  
...  
i'm a little worried  
it's not like him to miss so many days...

 **daedaehyung**  
did you apologize?

 **leaderminmin**  
yes!!!

 **daedaehyung**  
...  
i'll try and reach him

* * *

**kang dongho ^W^**

Dongho-yah?  
We haven't seen you in a while.  
Is everything okay?  
You don't have to tell us what you're doing.  
We're just worried.  
...  
Please stay safe.  
**[read: 2:41am]**

* * *

When Dongho arrives at the building, it's still pitch-black.

His head aches and his throat aches and his feet ache and _everything_ aches in that familiar bone-deep way he's come to associate with his sickness that won't leave him alone, but he's standing in front of HCE, and that's something, at least.

He's going to have to come up with a good reason for why he missed four days of work, or he won't. It all depends on the way things go.

He swipes open the front door, padding through the silent lobby before heading to the stairs. It's nearly pitch-black in the building, so he flicks on his phone flashlight, head unnervingly silent.

Or, well. Silent as compared to the last few days.

Perhaps it's because his decision has already been made. 

He makes his way to the dance studio, mirrors reflecting hundreds of him as he unlocks the door, and as he shuts it behind himself, his light flickers over the space like a strobe, illuminating his reflection.

_Wrongbodytypewrongskincolorwronghaircolortooshortnotgoodenough-_

He places his bag on the floor and slides off his shoes, nearly shivering as his bare feet meet the cold wooden floor. He's always preferred this - dancing barefoot - and though he doubts his feet are tough enough to do it well, he starts to warm up regardless.

_"Why are you warming up anyways? You're just a dancer who can't even dance."_

He pulls his earbuds out of his pockets, curling them around his ears and plugging them into his phone. An old song starts to filter through them - it's the deep crooning of someone he idolized, once - and he closes his eyes, turning up the volume to try and drown out his mind.

It's too late.

He's disappointed everyone for so long and given so much fuel to the fire gnawing at his mind that _there is nothing left to do except listen_.

Nothing to do but listen and dance.

He danced his way out of hell, danced his way into the company, danced his way into MAYHEM, and if he can't dance, then what point is there for him to be here?

It's his swan song, of sorts. Something to see if there's _anything_ he can do, something to test if he really is just holding everyone back.

( _"...just a dancer who can't even dance-")_

His feet slide across the wood, and he grits his teeth as he falls out of the step, cheeks burning with shame.

He's not even wearing his insoles, so _why_ -

Try again.

Step, step, turn, _fail-_

Try again.

Step, step, turn, _fail_ -

 _Try again_.

Step, step, turn, _fail_ -

_Try. Again._

_Step, step, turn, fail_ -

He pulls out his phone to restart the song, and it's nearly five in the morning. 

Three hours. 

Three hours he's been failing the same choreography, the same choreography that once came as easy as breathing, the same choreography where Mr. Kim was _proud of him-_

He's a failure.

He's a _fucking failure_.

He collapses by his bag, a broken sob tearing its way from his throat, and his gaze lands on the pill bottles inside it, dozens of small white containers strewn over his clothes.

...there's no reason not to do it now, is there?

After all, dance was _the one thing_. It's the one thing that pulled him out before, the one thing he had to be proud of, the _one thing he was good at_ -

and now he isn't.

( _"A dancer who can't even dance-"_ )

Before he can stop himself, he grabs one of the bottles from his bag and unscrews it, tipping the contents down his throat and swallowing.

One. 

Two.

Three.

By the time he grabs the fourth, his head's pounding, and once he swallows it, his mouth feels dry.

...one more.

He has to... has to take another. Make it so they can't bring him back.

Not like last time.

He fumbles with the container for a moment before it slips out of his grasp, and he flops down on top of his bag, exhaustion weighing him down.

Everyone's... everyone's gonna be happier like this, right...?

Surely...

Sure...

...

_"Dongho!"_

* * *

_**act 2: i need more of that wake up call** _

* * *

There are some things you can never forget, Minsoo decides, and walking in on your groupmate unconscious on the floor with pills strewn around him and feet raw and bleeding-

that's one of them.

He digs his nails into his denim-clad thighs, mind whirling with the same memory repeated again and again and again. 

( _Dongho sprawled across the floor, hair covering his eyes and chest barely moving_ -)

He doesn't want to think about it.

A hand lands on top of his, and he blinks, head snapping to the side and gaze landing on Daehyun.

Ah.

Right.

His groupmates are here.

Daehyun gently pries his hand off of his jeans, intertwining their fingers and squeezing lightly, and Minsoo-

 _Breathe_.

(what if he was too late?)

"Family of Choi Dongho?"

Minsoo's head snaps up, mind only processing the last word, and Daehyun hesitates for a moment, eyes flashing with confusion.

"Choi... Dongho?"

And _oh_ , now Minsoo's confused, but Dongho is an uncommon name, so maybe they just have his family name wrong. Yeah. That's probably it.

He jolts to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets and all but sprinting towards the nurse. "That- that's us. We're here to see Dongho-hyung."

The woman stares at them for a moment, judgement plain on her face, and her gaze eventually drops to her clipboard, a long sigh escaping her lips. "Alright. You can come with me."

Minsoo only barely registers Daehyun and Jaewon's presences behind him, only barely registers his own feet moving in a stilted rhythm, only barely registers the passing doors and white tile. It feels like the whole world's narrowed to him and Dongho, feels like time stopped when he saw his hyung lying on the floor, feels like his heart fell behind a few beats and is struggling to catch up.

"Here we are."

The nurse opens the door, and _oh_.

Dongho looks _small_.

There's an oxygen mask over his mouth and bandages wrapped around his throat, and his skin looks sickly-pale under the bright fluorescent lights. He's _skinny_ , too - wrists far too small for someone of his build - and dark circles rim his eyes, made even more prominent by his deathly pallor.

But what _really_ catches Minsoo's eyes are the scars.

They're old, turned silver with age (and isn't that a fucking relief-) but _fuck_ , they just _cover_ his arms. Jagged lines, straight lines, the twisted remnants of a number-

Minsoo's going to fucking puke.

"We have a few blank spots in his record," the nurse states, watching Minsoo collapse into the chair by Dongho's side. "Can you give us his basic information again?"

"Sure," Daehyun faintly replies, reaching out to rub Minsoo's back. "He's Kang Dongho, twenty-five-"

The nurse levies him with a dull glare, and Daehyun meets it with one of his own, confusion evident on his face. "What?"

"Wanna try again?" she drawls, tapping her clipboard. "Because unless the kid has somehow managed to live four extra years since we last saw him, your information is wrong."

What?

Minsoo's gaze flits from Dongho's face to the nurse, and he interlaces his fingers with the elder's, squeezing once as if that'll do anything. "I think... I think your information is wrong."

"We don't get this stuff wrong," the nurse dryly states, tapping her pen against her clipboard. "Based on our medical records, this is Choi Dongho, aged twenty-one, with a history of violent and suicidal tendencies."

What?

The world fades into a dull roar as Minsoo turns to stare at the man in the bed, superimposing it over an image of the man he met all those years ago.

And _fuck-_

Dongho _did_ look younger back then.

He can distantly hear Daehyun arguing with the nurse, can distantly hear the click of the door as Jaewon leaves, can distantly hear the _beep-beep-beep_ of the heart rate monitor, but his world's narrowed down to one thing.

 _Dongho lied_.

* * *

In a way, it started when he was born. 

He and Jun were never really _meant_ to be born. One of them, yes, but both of them?

No.

That's where it started. Both of them were born, and then their parents had to spend more money and had to relieve the stress, and they turned to drugs and started hoarding and grew to hate the children they gave birth to for _ruining their lives_ -

but his childhood wasn't all bad.

There was a nice woman down the street, he remembers. She owned a café, and when Dongho and Jun's parents were fighting or high or screaming, they could climb down the tree outside their window and run to her café for some cocoa. It wasn't- it wasn't _much_ , but it was _theirs_.

And then their parents overdosed.

He can still remember it - can still remember begging his parents to slow down, to not drink so much, can still remember his father throwing a paperweight that clipped his forehead, can still remember the screaming and the beating and the way they were so, so cold when he went to wake them up the next morning-

Bugs. There were bugs, he remembers. 

That's how he knew they were dead.

He didn't report it for a while. Of course he didn't. He was eight. He didn't report it, and he'd rush his younger twin off to school so he wouldn't see the bodies, and someone finally came up when they started to smell, and then-

then they left.

They stayed together at first, he remembers. They stayed together, but people were picking on Jun, so Dongho had to fight them, because _nobody_ got to touch his twin brother, and people would beat him up too, so he learned to fight back, and Jun was the angel child, the good one, while Dongho was _just like his parents-_

Breathe.

Around Christmas on the year they turned ten, Jun got adopted.

Just Jun.

Not Dongho.

And that- that was fine! Jun was the good one, after all, and though Dongho knew he'd miss his twin, he knew he'd be better off with a family instead of bouncing from foster home to foster home, and Jun promised to write, so it was fine.

They took a photo, he remembers. They took a photo in front of Jun's parents' tree, wrapped presents behind them and Jun's arms slung over Dongho's shoulders with a bright grin on his lips.

...Dongho should've smiled more. Should've been nicer back then.

Maybe things would be better if he had.

* * *

_Choi Dongho. Twenty-one._

Daehyun turns to stare at the boy in the bed, thumb brushing softly over his knuckles.

 _Choi Dongho. Twenty-one_.

He can't stop thinking about it.

Can't believe it.

 _Choi Dongho. Twenty-one_.

The phrase loops in his head like a metronome, always pounding at the back of his mind, and he stares at the small, small figure in the bed, taking in the bandages around his neck and dark circles rimming his eyes.

 _Five-eight. Severely underweight_.

Fuck, Dongho even lied about his _height_.

How?

 _Hospitalized once before by another suicide attempt_.

Sixteen.

Dongho was _sixteen_ when he got admitted to the hospital to the first time, _sixteen_ and had a record miles long.

He was eighteen when Daehyun met him.

Eighteen, with faintly chubby cheeks and a notebook clutched to his chest, and Daehyun should've known, should've seen, should've been able to tell from the way he looked both so big and so small-

He reaches up to thread his shaking fingers through Dongho's hair, a sob nearly ripping its way from his chest as the crease in the younger's brow lessens just slightly.

...Dongho's younger than Minsoo.

 _Fuck_ , that explains so much.

"I'm sorry," Daehyun breathes, trembling hands falling to cup his dongsaeng's cheeks. "Dongho-yah- I'm so, so sorry."

The fact is this: _he failed his dongsaeng_. 

Even if he thought Dongho was his age, he should've done something, should've noticed, should've gone after him when he didn't show up, _should have done more-_

The first tear drips off his chin, and he buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with the combined forces of his grief and his guilt.

He's always done too little too late, after all.

* * *

The first time he tried to kill himself, he was sixteen. 

He was sixteen and angry and scared and _so achingly alone_ , sixteen and broken and failing all of his classes while teacher after teacher told him he'd never amount to anything.

Sixteen, and when he looked in the mirror, he saw his mother.

He slit his wrists in the school bathroom after class, and when he woke up, he was in the hospital.

It would've been nicer to not wake up at all. 

He believed that then, and he still believes it now.

They took his information, wrapped him up and left him to recover, left him in an empty room with white sheets and white walls and the beeping of the monitor slowly driving him insane.

Nobody came to visit.

Not that he expected them to.

Apparently his math teacher brought him in. Mr. Kim.

Nobody liked Mr. Kim. Mr. Kim didn't like anybody. It was a law of equivalent exchange.

He probably only brought Dongho in because he'd get in trouble if he didn't. 

And yet once Dongho got back into class after three weeks in the hospital, Mr. Kim started to... care?

He didn't actively berate him like he'd grown accustomed to, didn't take off points for minute mistakes, didn't- didn't treat Dongho like the scum of the earth.

Honestly, it was and still is something he barely understands. After all, he was just another at-risk kid, another kid set to end up like his parents, another kid doomed to wind up as a statistic and nothing more-

but Mr. Kim reached out.

He asked if Dongho wanted to learn to dance, asked if he wanted to stay after to take classes, and Dongho - a die-hard lover of DDR with a fire in his core - said yes.

It's the one decision he's never going to regret.

* * *

When Jaewon steps into Dongho's apartment, the first thing he notices is the _cold_.

Cold air, cold spaces, cold and sterile everywhere he looks, and it doesn't look lived-in in the slightest, instead appearing more like a home showing than anything else.

Even compared to what it was a week ago, it's depressing.

A soft _"mrrow"_ floats through the air, and Jaewon's gaze lands on the cat in front of him, her tail tucked around her paws and emerald eyes pinned on his face.

...what did Dongho plan to do with Boba?

(what was so bad that not even Boba was reason enough to stay?)

Jaewon drops into a crouch, letting Boba stroll over and rub her cheek on his hand. It's nice - oddly domestic - and he just _knows_ he's bringing this cat home with him.

He stays there for a while, letting the cat mark him to her heart's content, before he heads for Dongho's room, heart in his throat.

(god, he's so afraid of what he's going to see.)

He pulls open the door, and _oh_.

Oh, _no_.

Clothes litter the floor, some drawers hap-hazardly shoved shut and others hanging open. A notebook sits on the bed, pages strewn about the room, and as Jaewon unfolds one, he catches sight of some slanted writing at the bottom.

_"not good enough not good enough you're such a disappointment-"_

Oh.

Oh, _Dongho_.

He bends down, slowly picking up the crumpled and torn bits of paper, and he places them on the desk before grabbing the gutted notebook, its covers clacking together as he moves.

What _happened here_?

Jaewon slowly smooths out each paper, trying to ignore the scribbled-out names and "to"s, and he places each one between the covers, fighting the tears that threaten to spill with each shut of the book.

Most of them only have a few words or phrases on them, each one scribbled out with slashes of dark ink, but as Jaewon nears the end of the pile, there's one that stops him in his tracks.

It's folded instead of crumpled, and there's a name on the outside Jaewon doesn't recognize for a moment.

_"Junsu"._

He stares at it for a moment, hands trembling as he grips the paper, and though he knows it's not for him, knows he's never going to meet whoever this "Junsu" is, knows Dongho only planned for someone to read this if he _died-_

he opens it.

* * *

_Junsu:_

_I know you're never going to read this. I'm alright with that. I'm hoping Minsoo-hyung or one of the others will hold onto it for me and keep it safe, but they probably won't._

_Still._

_If this is somehow reaching you, I'm glad. I'm glad I get to see you again, even if it is just this letter. I'm sorry it can't be more. I'm sorry I couldn't stay with you. ~~I'm sorry I'm your brother~~_

_Did you ever get into art school? I remember you wanted to go. I hope you got to go. You deserve it._

_I'm sorry, Jun. I wasn't able to keep our promise. I wasn't able to find you again. You deserve better than a delinquent brother living a fake life, though, so I guess I'm not really that sorry?_

_Anyways._

_I love you a lot. I can't stress that enough. You're my little brother, my best friend, my family, even if we're so far apart. Even though I haven't seen you in eleven years, I still think I'd recognize you on the spot._

_Did you recognize me?_

_Probably not._

_It's for the best that way._

_If you didn't, then surprise! I'm a member of MAYHEM._

_Well. Was._

_And, really, I'm not at all. Who I am - your brother - is basically dead. It's for the best that way._

_...ha. Basically dead. Like this isn't my suicide note._

_Anyways._

_The person you see on T.V. is named Kang Dongho. He's the one with the bleached hair and the sharp smile and the perfect nails. He's the one with the rich family and the privilege and the apartment. He's the one who's perfect._

_Did you know I wanted to be an actor for a bit, Jun? Not for very long. I decided to be a dancer pretty quickly after that, but I wanted to be an actor for a bit._

_Don't you love having dreams you never chased fulfilled in the worst way?_

_You'd know about that, though. With Mom and Dad._

_I'm sorry this letter is getting so melodramatic. I just miss talking to you a lot. ~~I miss having a friend~~_

_I kept the photo, if that's worth anything. I never forgot._

_I hope you can forgive me._

_I hope we'll meet again someday._

_I love you, Jun. No matter what. Never forget that._

_-Choi Dongho_

* * *

There's something about being loved, he decides, memories floating in the ether like stars.

There's a difference between the kind of familial love you get from a brother and that of a mentor, and to this day, Dongho's felt few things more invigorating.

Mr. Kim taught him to dance, tutored him in math, brought him food when he hadn't eaten in far too long, and _god_ , Dongho wondered for _so long_ if _this_ was how having a parent felt. Someone there to pick you up when you fell, someone there to believe in you, someone there to _care_ -

Mr. Kim believed in him. 

That's a fact.

Mr. Kim believed in him, pushed him, brought him warm food and encouraged him to get back up every time he wanted to quit. Mr. Kim brought him an old winter coat when it was freezing outside, Mr. Kim encouraged him to apply for the dance competition, and Mr. Kim took him out to celebrate when he won. 

It was odd. Celebrating that. Celebrating _him_.

But, of course, nothing can last forever.

No - of course it couldn't.

The night after he won his competition, he woke up to a girl kissing him.

Not just _a girl_. It would've been easier if she was just _a girl_.

Someone would've believed him if she was just _a girl_.

But no - she was student body VP, involved in all sorts of clubs, the _golden child_ of the foster home, so nobody believed him.

He shoved her off and she hit her head on the table, and people came running in, and nobody believed him when he said she was the one who assaulted him.

It's so easy to manipulate perceptions of people with a record.

No - instead she got to stay, and he got pulled from the only school he'd ever done well in, got pulled away from the only person who cared, got pulled away from someone he almost considered _family_ -

Nobody is ever going to believe him.

That's a lesson he learned the hard way.

Nobody cares about Choi Dongho.

* * *

Daehyun's stirred from sleep by the relentless buzzing of his phone.

He feels around the nightstand for a few moments before eventually grabbing the device, and he squints at it, exhaustion addling his mind and light burning his eyes.

* * *

**jaewonnie ^W^**

hyu ng  
hyun g if oudn  
the notw  
im brimfimg bboa  
im osrry i cna ot stop cryimng  
illmbe hone soom

Why are you buying buble tea at 3 in the monrig?

* * *

Daehyun sighs upon seeing no response forthcoming, and he drops his phone on his dresser again, eyes sliding shut.

God, he's exhausted.

He's about to drift off into the dream realm when the front door slams open, and Daehyun jolts upright with a shriek, nearly falling out of bed in his panic. As it is, he has his blankets tangled around his ankles and his torso hanging half off the mattress, so while whoever's in the living room does whatever the fuck he's doing, he untangles himself enough to stumble out of bed.

He pushes open the door and trips down the hall, one hand rubbing his eyes as he gropes blindly for the light switch. He flicks it-

and Jaewon's standing in the living room, a cat carrier in his arms and a few bags around him.

"Wha... wha'n the fuck...?"

"I brought Boba," Jaewon states, holding up the cat carrier as if that explains what the fuck is happening. "I couldn't- I couldn't- I couldn't let her stay there, hyung-"

Daehyun stares at him for a moment - at his red-rimmed eyes, shaking hands, and messy hair - and steps forwards, pulling Jaewon into as tight of a hug as he can muster.

And oh, Jaewon just _melts_ , his head coming to rest against Daehyun's collarbone and arms winding around the elder's waist. Daehyun presses a hand to the back of his head, running his fingers through Jaewon's dye-damaged hair, and the younger chokes on a sob, tears already rolling down his cheeks as his hands scrabble for purchase against Daehyun's tee.

"He wanted to die," Jaewon gasps, and Daehyun's hand falls to the small of his back, his fingers rubbing circles into his dongsaeng's jacket. "He- he wanted- he wanted-"

"It's okay," Daehyun breathes, and _oh_ , he knows it's nothing even close to that, but Jaewon needs lies right now, and though he may only be practiced in those of omission, it must carry over a bit. "It's okay, Wonnie-yah."

"What if he dies?" Jaewon begs, voice low and wrecked with tears, and Daehyun just holds him closer, because _he does not have an answer_.

He doesn't know what's going to happen if Dongho dies. Doesn't know how MAYHEM can continue as three.

(he doesn't know what's going to happen if he lives, either.)

No - instead, he ushers Jaewon to bed and spends the next hour or so setting up things for Dongho's cat (which Daehyun didn't even know he _had_ , who the _fuck_ hides a cat?) before collapsing back into bed himself, his pillow the thinnest barrier between him and reality.

His delusion: Dongho is fine.

The reality: Dongho is everything but.

* * *

High Class was his last-ditch effort.

They were going to throw him out once he turned eighteen, throw him out on the streets with nothing but the clothes on his back and his shattered hopes lying at his feet.

He knew he wouldn't survive that. Fuck, he _knew_.

So he applied for High Class.

He applied, and they looked at him - at his tan skin, at his dark hair, at his body, at his face - and told him they had an opportunity for him if he'd just sign on the dotted line.

The thing about being desperate is that you feel like you have no other choice.

Looking back, that feeling persists.

It _was_ his only option back then, and it still is today. Act or die. Comply or die.

He finally chose die.

In retrospect, it took him long enough.

But at the time, he was slipping up, tripping in his insoles, letting a bit of _him_ seep through the mask of Choi Dongho, and that-

that wasn't what he was meant to do.

That wasn't why they chose him.

They chose someone with nothing to lose on purpose, chose someone who bled desperation and treated each breath like it could be their last. They chose someone with no other option so they could string him up like a puppet, tell him where to go and force him to do it, because _there was nothing else for him_.

MAYHEM will hate him when they find out.

That's alright, he supposes. He hates him, too.

* * *

When Minsoo finally drags himself home, there's a cat sitting at the table.

Now, he's aware that trying to figure out of this cat is a hallucination or not is a moot point. He hasn't slept in thirty-six hours, too wrapped up in his own paranoia to let go of Dongho's hand, but Daehyun's at the hospital now, and _there is still a cat here_.

He stares at it. 

Blinks.

The cat blinks.

"Hyung!"

A shriek rings through the air, and a thud immediately follows, the resulting clatter making Minsoo wince. 

Ow. Poor Jaewon.

Finally, the red-haired man stumbles out of his room, a blanket tangled around his ankles and hair sticking up every-which-way. It's odd, Minsoo thinks - odd to see _Jaewon_ in place of _Wyld_ \- and as he watches, Jaewon kicks off the blanket, stumbling forwards and nearly face-planting in the wall.

"You... you okay there?"

"'m good," Jaewon mumbles, giving Minsoo a weak little thumbs-up. "What's wrong?"

"There's a cat on the table."

Jaewon stares at him for a moment.

Then at the cat.

The cat sneezes.

"Oh, yeah. That's Boba."

"Who's Boba?"

"Dongho's cat," Jaewon replies, as if that explains literally everything. Which, Minsoo supposes, it _kind of_ does, but at the same time, _what_?

"Why is it here?"

"Because hyung- because Dongho-yah is in the hospital," Jaewon replies, crossing the room to scratch the cat's head. 

"Mmm."

The cat tilts its head, staring at Minsoo with those piercing emerald eyes, and he shivers, giving the table a wide berth as he heads for his room. 

"I'm gonna go to bed. Don't let it follow me."

"Are you sure?" Jaewon asks, and Minsoo nods, shooting the cat a death glare before retreating to his room.

He flops on his bed, eyes drifting shut, and right as he's about to fall asleep, a terrifying thought occurs to him.

_If Dongho moves in with us, we're going to have to share a room._

_If we have to share a room, I have to share a room with the cat._

" _Fuck_."

* * *

**manager-hyung :D**

Good afternoon!  
Do you have a minute to talk?

Of course.  
What's wrong, Daehyun-ah?

So, uh...  
I don't know if you know, but Dongho-yah was admitted to the hospital yesterday.  
And they're saying there are signs of prolongued physical abuse to his throat  
And that he's...

What?

He's not actually 25, hyung.  
He's 21.  
He's younger than Minsoo-yah.

Oh.

I just.  
I figured I should let you know.

I see.  
I'll talk to the CEO about this.  
Thank you for telling me, Daehyun-ah.

Is he going to get in trouble?

Most likely, yes.  
He lied to the company.

Please be kind to him.  
I'm sure he had a reason for doing what he did.  
Even if we don't know yet.

...I'll see what I can do.

* * *

For as much as Dongho wants to forget, there's one thing he'll never be able to.

That being: one of the times the CEO called him into his office.

He pushed open the door, and two security guards grabbed his arms, frog-marching him up to the CEO's desk. The man smiled, then - cold and sharp and _dangerous_ \- and the guards shoved Dongho to his knees, forcing his head against the carpet as the sounds of footsteps rang through the air.

He's not sure how long he knelt there, forehead pressed to the dirty carpet and footsteps ringing through the air, but at some point, a security guard wrenched his head back, and a tight loop of leather wrapped around his throat.

 _No_.

"I'm sure you know why you're here," the CEO stated, and Dongho tried to turn, tried to see who surrounded him, but the security guard wrenched his head back to face the CEO, and all he could see was an endless sea of black suits.

 _Everyone is watching_.

"No," Dongho rasped, and the CEO's chair slid back with a squeak.

He counted _one-two-three-four-five_ seconds before a pudgy finger wrapped around the collar, yanking him forwards to meet the CEO's gaze. And _oh_ -

"Disobedient," the man snarled, expression contorted in fury. "It looks like you need a _demonstration_ as to what the price of disobedience is."

A boot slammed into Dongho's face, then, and he bit his tongue, blood filling his mouth as a hand kept his head steady. And yet-

The CEO kicked him again.

And again.

And again, and again, and again, and again, _and again and again and again-_

He couldn't move. Couldn't struggle. If he did, one of the burly men kicked him in the ribs, and _fuck_ , that hurt so much worse, so he didn't fight.

Didn't fight even as the collar cut off his breathing.

Didn't fight even as blood trickled from his nose, spilling down his lips and onto the carpet. 

Didn't fight even as the CEO mashed his face into the carpet before hauling him up with the leather loop around his neck, a sadistic grin on his face as he studied Dongho's battered and bruised form.

" _Beg_."

He couldn't think.

Couldn't breathe.

Couldn't say a word.

He couldn't say a word, and so the CEO beat him again, and again, and again and again and _again_ -

They thought he might have to get plastic surgery after that. 

They being: all the managers, stylists, choreographers and instructors that watched the CEO beat him down.

They couldn't leave or risk a lawsuit. Couldn't tell anyone without the fear of libel.

Dongho doesn't blame them. He just blames himself.

* * *

The funny thing about libel is that it relies entirely on the _perception_ of the truth.

Dongho can scream to the heavens that the CEO is manipulating him, can scream to the world that _he never wanted to do this_ , but every word that comes out of his mouth has to first pass through the filter of _addict-in-the-making_ , and that's not an easy hurdle to overcome. He can scream all he wants, provide all the evidence and proof and tell the _truth_ , but nobody will believe a word he says.

He knows this.

The CEO knows it, too.

The CEO knows it, and that's the worst part of this stacked game. He's playing with a pair of twos while the CEO has a royal flush, playing with a king and a pawn while the CEO has seven queens.

Nobody is ever going to believe him.

Nobody is ever going to believe him, even if he has the scars to prove it. Nobody is ever going to believe him, because the CEO is wealthy and affluent and respected, while Dongho is _nothing_.

The funny thing about the truth is that it doesn't matter in the _slightest_ if nobody cares to listen.

This, he knows well.

This, _everyone_ knows - at least on some level, though most don't care to acknowledge it. This, some know better than others.

This, Jaewon knows like the back of his hand.

Maybe his death will help Jaewon somehow. Maybe- maybe him dying will expose the seedy underbelly of the company.

It'll either do that or bring in media buzz, so really, it's a win-win.

Still- Jaewon deserves better. It's wishful thinking at this point, but he wishes any of the notes besides Jun's came out decent at all.

There's probably a paper in his room with the truth on it.

Hopefully someone finds it. Someone other than Jaewon.

Maybe then Dongho can be braver than he was in life.

Death is nice, he decides, eyes drifting shut once more. After all, there's nobody to disappoint here.

* * *

"You really think he lied to the company...?"

Jaewon fidgets with the hem of his shirt, gaze pinned on his lap, and Daehyun sighs, raking a hand through his hair.

"I don't know. I think so."

"...why?"

There's a thought niggling at the back of Jaewon's mind - a possibility he can't quite overlook.

_What if Dongho's like him?_

What if Dongho's like him - strung up on a lie and walking the razor wire, treading on something that cuts his feet but unable to fall lest the rope around his neck strangle him?

Well.

It almost did.

"What else could it be?" Daehyun wearily replies, reaching out to grasp Dongho's hand. "None of the managers knew anything about this. The CEO didn't know anything about this. It looks like he just lied."

...somehow, Jaewon can't believe that.

No - instead he opts to stare at the heart rate monitor, taking in the familiar spikes and falls.

It's easier to look at that. Easier to look at that than the pale boy in the bed, scars lining his arms and chest barely rising and falling.

"...I don't know," he finally murmurs, watching as the heart rate monitor slowly beeps. "Even with all that... I don't know.

People lie. They lie and lie and _lie_ , and those lies are the type Jaewon's intimately familiar with.

After all, none of the managers have ever told the truth about his scandals, either.

"Why?" Daehyun simply asks, and Jaewon exhales, gaze drifting to the window.

It's night outside, and hundreds of miniature stars gleam in buildings and on streets, each one a bustling, breathing _life_.

It'd be nice to be nothing more than one of those stars, Jaewon thinks, rubbing his thumb over the back of Dongho's hand. It'd be nice to be obscure.

"I trust him," he whispers, and there's really nothing else to say, is there?

* * *

A few days after the meeting, they took him to a plastic surgeon.

Not a doctor. A plastic surgeon.

He kept his head down, only leaning this way and that when the doctor asked, and through it all, all he could hear was a horrible buzzing in his ears.

The doctor probably hated what he saw. Fuck knows he did.

It was _ugly_ \- deep purple bruising around both eyes, dark spots splattered over his cheeks and jaw, his ribs a myriad of _green-yellow-blue-purple-black_ \- but he said nothing.

The managers led him out after that, one on either side, and Dongho just pulled his mask higher, trying to hide his split lip and bruised cheeks.

He didn't care.

Still doesn't, really. 

After all, HCE bought his life and his body with the contract he signed at seventeen, and there's no backing out now.

They took him back to his apartment after the consultation, he remembers. They took him back and told him to stay there until the bruises were gone, and then he could come back to practice. 

No sooner.

Can't have people asking questions, after all.

(to this day, he wonders if he saw pity in their eyes.)

Still. 

At least being forced to stay home brought him Boba, so that was _something_.

The managers weren't happy when they saw the wet, bedraggled kitten wrapped up in one of his expensive blankets, but they let him keep her nonetheless.

Why?

He still can't understand that.

He's not complaining - not when they didn't tell the CEO - but he still can't fathom why.

Why would they let him keep her?

It just... doesn't make sense.

It doesn't make sense because it's _nice_. It's nice and a liability, and it's something Dongho's not supposed to have - Kang Dongho doesn't care about _animals_ , after all - but it's something he was allowed to have anyways.

_Why?_

* * *

He's not sure how long he floats there, but at some point, something changes.

It's not something he can really explain with words, but if he had to, he'd call it _heavier_. It's something pushing on his chest, treading the line between weighing and suffocating, and the harsher the pressure gets, the more the pain increases.

 _"No,"_ he wants to cry, _"no, no, please let me stay here,"_ but the world is cold and the world is cruel, and so the pressure continues to increase.

Distant beeps start to filter in, and light builds in some distant place, his peaceful darkness giving way to aching, burning light, and he wants to _scream_ , because _he does not want to wake up_ , but the universe is cruel, and so he does.

He jolts back to consciousness in one moment, ripped from his beautiful, painless dream, and as his eyes shoot open, he processes three things in tandem.

One: he is not dead.

Two: he is in a hospital.

Three: Minsoo is asleep next to him.

He chokes on an inhale, one hand coming up to grasp at the thing over his nose and mouth, and Minsoo stirs next to him, dark eyes blinking open and gaze sliding to Dongho's face.

"Dongho... yah...?"

All sound disappears in an instant.

 _They know_.

Dongho curls in on himself, breath coming short and quick, and he can't breathe, can't breathe, _can't fucking breathe_ , and someone's touching his arm so he shoves them away, pain shooting through his hand as he does, and everything is too heavy and too bright and too _painful_ and _why is he alive_?

He should be dead.

He should have died last time, should have died this time, but he's _alive_ , and _god_ , does he not want to be.

Another person grabs his shoulders, and he thrashes in their grasp, barely registering the prick in his upper arm until his thoughts start to turn into goop.

 _They drugged him_.

Fuck.

Someone grasps his hand once more, and he tries to twist out of their grasp, but they interlace their fingers with his, and he's feeling _very_ floaty right now, so maybe it would be nicer to just sleep for a bit.

Yeah... that... that sounds nice. He can sleep, and mystery person can hold his hand.

That sounds...

...

* * *

**bingbingbing**

**leaderminmin**  
hy u ng plesae get hwre

 **daedaehyung**  
what???  
what's wrong???

 **leaderminmin**  
dongho woke up and  
he was panicking so b ad  
thjey shad to sedate him

 **daedaehyung**  
what????

 **leaderminmin**  
i ju st called him dongho-yah  
and he psniacvked  
i dont know waht to do

 **daedaehyung**  
i'm on my way

 **wonnie**  
I'll come too.

 **leaderminmin**  
th ank y oy  
hes asleep noe but i cant  
stop thignking abr his face hyungds  
he lokoed likje he thought si was onna kill hgim

 **daedaehyung**  
Mini.  
Breathe.  
I'm on my way. I'll be there in five minutes.

 **leaderminmin**  
ok y

* * *

**The Truth Exposed - MAYHEM's D.Min discovered to be lying about age, history, and criminal past.**

In a group rife with controversy, the scrutiny of today falls not on WYLD, as it so often does, but on the group's "eldest", D.Min. Reportedly the son of a successful businessman, D.Min has always been the picture of perfection, but as stated in an exclusive interview with HCE's CEO today, that seems not to be the case.

Yes, dear readers, D.Min was lying. Not just about his family, but about his age, and, most damningly, his background.

See, D.Min isn't the picture of perfection we all thought he was. Instead, he's the son of hoarders and drug addicts, with a history of violence and a list of foster homes long enough to make your skin crawl.

Small wonder he'd lie about that.

D.Min - born Choi Dongho - has been passed through close to twenty foster homes over the years, being removed from each one for an issue of violence, assault, or belligerence. Born in '96 and placed in the system at the age of eight, he's gone through twenty foster homes in ten years, with one particular year having four separate homes in the span of six months.

More than that, he has a checkered history at best. He's placed multiple fellow students in the hospital, and for a long time, had a brutal reputation at the school he attended for his lack of mercy and willingness to hunt someone down.

With all of this considered, how in the hell did he get into HCE? CEO Park has the answer for that.

"We took him under the impression that he was a CEO's son," Park stated. "He lied on multiple legal documents, and as such, HCE will be taking legal action against him."

He paused for a moment, before adding "It's such a shame that his actions dragged down the rest of MAYHEM."

Naturally, MAYNIACs are outraged. Hundreds have taken to Twitter to express their rage, and even more have taken to burning photocards and merchandise with D.Min on it. 

_**@miniminsoo** _

_i can't believe dm*n did this. how fucking disgusting._

_**@ddddaehyun** _

_if you wanna burn D.M*n's photocards, send them to me!_

_**@minsoosrighthand** _

_he's just like his addict parents. how much u wanna bet he's addicted to something too?_

**_@histo3mak3r_ **

_dmin should die_

HCE has yet to release an official statement.

The rest of MAYHEM have stayed quiet on the issue as well. Nothing has been posted on Twitter for over a week, and fans are starting to grow irritated at the other members as well.

_**@meyham20** _

_cant fucking believe **@mayhem_2ms** **@MayhemDae** and **@93wyld** are saying nothing about this. how fucking disgusting can they be?_

**_@drepahrep_ **

**_@mayhem_2ms @MayhemDae_ ** _SAY SOMETHING_

**_@hreeyee2003_ **

**_@mayhem2ms @MayhemDae_ ** _this isn't like wyld's scandals. fucking say something._

Follow **@realdispatch** on Twitter to get updates for this story as it progresses!

_**432k views 102k comments**_

* * *

_**act 3: i'm so afraid (will you be like me?)** _

* * *

The next time Dongho wakes up, he doesn't flinch.

Minsoo isn't sure if that's better or worse.

It's not dramatic in the way his first awakening was, either. He simply opens his eyes for a moment, looks around the room, and sighs.

...well, then.

"Dongho-yah?" Minsoo murmurs, squeezing the younger man's hand in an attempt to capture his attention. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Why am I alive?"

Minsoo flinches at that, shock coursing through his veins in an instant, but Dongho simply stares at the ceiling, dark eyes dull and expression blank.

"I was supposed to die. That way, I could help."

Everything dissolves into a dull roar.

_"I was supposed to die."_

_Fuck_ , Minsoo knew Dongho wanted to die - knew there was no way to take four bottles of pills _by accident_ \- but hearing it?

That's something entirely different.

"No," he breathes, reaching forwards to clasp Dongho's hand. "No, no, Dongho- I'm so glad you're alive. Do you hear me? I am _so glad_ you're alive."

Dongho stares at him, then, expression devoid of any emotion or feeling, and Minsoo grips his hand tighter, fighting against the tears that threaten to spill.

"I am _so glad_ , Dongho-yah, 'cause- 'cause even if we're not as close as we used to be, and even if we fought, you're my _friend_. _You are my friend_."

"I lied," Dongho flatly replies, gaze pinned on somewhere above Minsoo's head. "I lied to you. I lied to everyone. You don't even _know me_."

"Why?"

Dongho stares at him, then, and Minsoo freezes at the sight of _tears_ in his eyes.

Why?

"You don't know?"

And that-

Minsoo knows about the past.

He knows Dongho used to get into fights at school, knows Dongho's parents were hoarders and addicts, knows Dongho lied about his age and history to get into HCE-

but _why_?

Why did he lie in the first place?

(why did it work?)

"I don't," Minsoo admits, and Dongho shakes his head, the motion pushing blond strands in front of his eyes.

"I never wanted to, Min- Minsoo-hyung. If you believe nothing else, believe that much."

"Then why did you?" Minsoo begs, and Dongho's expression shutters, lips twisting with something Minsoo gingerly identifies as _pain_.

"He made me."

There's nothing else to say.

It feels as though Minsoo's standing in the shadow of a roaring tsunami, the massive wave looming over his head but having yet to crash down, sucking him off his feet and filling his lungs with water.

"Who... who made you?"

"..."

"Dongho-yah?"

"The CEO."

Dongho's gaze falls to his lap, and the wave crashes down, down, down.

* * *

**bingbingbing**

**leaderminmin**  
the ceo made him  
the fucking ceo made him  
he fucking did this

 **wonnie**  
What?  
Made who?

 **leaderminmin**  
the fucking ceo made dongho lie  
he didn't want to do it himself  
the ceo fucking made him

 **daedaehyung**  
what?

 **leaderminmin**  
jaewon hyung  
did you know anything about this?

 **wonnie**  
...  
Not about Dongho-yah, but...  
kind of.

 **leaderminmin**  
wait.  
are your scandals fake too?

 **daedaehyung**  
minsoo  
that's enough

 **wonnie**  
...

 **leaderminmin**  
holy shit they are  
i'm going to fucking kill him

 **daedaehyung**  
MINSOO

 **leaderminmin**  
what  
what, hyung

 **daedaehyung**  
that's enough  
we can't trust dongho  
i don't know why you're taking his word for it

 **leaderminmin**  
what?

 **daedaehyung**  
he lied to us for years, minsoo  
we can't trust him

 **leaderminmin**  
i can't fucking believe you  
dongho tells us the fucking truth and you don't even believe him?  
fuck's sake even jaewon agrees

 **wonnie**  
I...  
It makes too much sense to me.  
After everything I've seen...

 **leaderminmin**  
fucking exactly  
how the fuck can you not believe us dae hyung

 **daedaehyung**  
dongho lied to us for YEARS  
and the ceo's been nothing but kind  
i can't believe you two would lie like this  
dongho i would have expected but you?  
i'm disappointed

 **leaderminmin**  
how dare  
how the FUCK DARE YOU

 **daedaehyung**  
No, Minsoo.  
How dare *you* lie about a man who's been nothing but kind to us?

 **leaderminmin**  
oh my fucking god  
i can't believe you

 **daedaehyung**  
I can't believe you, either.

 **leaderminmin**  
fuck you  
genuinely, from the bottom of my heart  
fuck you dae hyung  
i'm going to go talk with dongho again  
don't message me unless it's with an apology

 **daedaehyung**  
Same goes for me.

 **wonnie**  
Wait, please...  
...

* * *

"You came?"

Dongho tilts his head a bit as they walk through the door, confusion shining in his eyes, and Minsoo nods, bounding over to take a seat next to the youngest. 

"Of course we did! You can't get rid of me that easily!"

Dongho huffs a bit at that, reaching up to ruffle Minsoo's hair, and _oh_ , Jaewon thinks, _Minsoo's a better hyung than he lets on_.

He stands there for close to two minutes before a pair of dark eyes land on him, and Dongho tilts his head once more, expression shuttering in an instant.

"Jaewon-hyung."

It's cold, curt, _afraid_ , and Jaewon-

 _breathe_.

"Hi, Dongho-yah," Jaewon smiles, though he's aware it comes out weak and strained. "I just wanted to come and show you some photos of Boba-yah-"

"Boba?" Dongho echoes, a combination of panic and fear flickering in his eyes. "Boba- where-"

"I brought her back to the dorm," Jaewon soothes, and Dongho relaxes into the cushions once more, Minsoo's head coming to fall on his shoulder as the leader swings his legs over Dongho's lap.

Smart.

"You have photos?"

And _oh_ , it's odd seeing Dongho like this - vulnerable and _bare_ in a way they've never quite seen - but now that Jaewon looks closer, he can see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, can see the way he leans into Minsoo just slightly, can see the way he picks at the sheets covering his thighs, and it just-

it's like looking at a pointillist painting up close.

He can see _so much more_ this way, can see all the little idiosyncrasies that make up _Dongho_ that he hid for so long, and it's-

it's incredible.

"I do," Jaewon affirms, rounding the bed to take a seat on Dongho's other side. "Look, here she is in Minsoo's hoodies..."

They sit there for close to half an hour - long enough for Minsoo to fall asleep on Dongho's shoulder and for Jaewon to slide a bit closer, his arm barely brushing the youngest's - before Dongho sighs, gaze flitting to the distant sky.

"Don't you guys have to leave soon?"

"Nope," Minsoo sleepily mumbles, curling even closer to Dongho. "Brought a change of clothes 'n everything. You can't get rid of me today."

Dongho stares at him, visibly stunned, and Jaewon reaches up to rub the back of his neck, awkwardness flickering in his eyes. "Ah- I did the same. If you're alright with us staying, that is-"

"Yes," Dongho blurts, and Jaewon's head whips up to stare at him, eyes widening as his gaze lands on the youngest's face. 

"Really?"

"...it's too quiet alone," Dongho finally frowns, leaning back into the pillows. "I don't like the quiet."

"Right," Minsoo yawns, nuzzling into the youngest's neck. "You like... like the opera 'n shit..."

"More city noise," Dongho murmurs, reaching up to thread his fingers through Minsoo's damaged hair. "I miss hearing everyone running around all night. Miss hearing people."

"...do you wanna move in with us?"

Dongho turns to stare at Jaewon, eyes wide with bewilderment, and Jaewon laughs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Once you get discharged, I mean..."

Dongho's still staring.

Oops?

"You don't have to if you don't want to!" Jaewon hurries to add, hands flailing wildly in an attempt to emphasize his point. "I mean, just if you want to, because of course you don't have to, you have your own house so it's totally fine if you don't wanna come stay with us-"

"I'd love to," Dongho interjects, and Jaewon stares at him, mouth hanging open. 

"Really?"

"Really."

* * *

The next morning, Jaewon makes two calls.

One is to Dispatch, offering to do an interview with them under the company's nose, and the other is to his mother.

One... goes much easier than the other.

He'd already made the decision to expose the truth as soon as he saw Dongho sitting in the hospital bed, eyes shining with fear and panic, because _hiding the truth wasn't just affecting him anymore_.

(he thinks of chipped mugs as he calls, thinks of hot cocoa and faint smiles, and the decision has never been so easy.)

The second call, though.

The second call.

It's so, so hard to call his mom, so, so hard to tell her he lied to her for years, _so, so hard_ to tell her the truth about everything that's happened, but she forgives him.

Why?

"Jaewonnie," she murmurs, voice soothing even as Jaewon tries in vain to fight back tears. "Do you want me to come back to Seoul?"

"But- but- work-"

"I can take off for a week," she soothes, and Jaewon hiccups pathetically, reaching up to scrub his eyes with his sleeve. "Anything for my boy."

"M-Mom-"

"Besides," she continues, "from the sounds of it, you have a friend who could use a mother's love, too."

 _God_ , Jaewon loves his mom.

"Please," he gasps, and his mom hums, the affirmation turning into a gentle song he only vaguely remembers, and now Jaewon's crying in full, face pressed to his knees in a hospital bathroom and the comforting sounds of _home_ floating through the phone's speaker.

"It'll be okay, Wonnie... I'll be there soon..."

* * *

**Another Shocking Reveal - MAYHEM's Wyld alledges HCE's CEO faked scandals!**

Last night, yours truly was contacted by MAYHEM's WYLD, who, after reading my last article, seemed to want to set the record straight. Now, dear readers, I must admit that I was expecting something along the lines of a poorly thought out excuse, but what WYLD had to tell me blew my expectations out of the water.

He told me that not only did the CEO of HCE set up and arrange scandals for him, but that he knew the entire time about D.Min's true age and history, and forced him to lie about it!

"[D.Min] never told the truth because he couldn't," WYLD told me. "I never said anything because I thought it would help. I never said anything because the CEO told me that if I were to make enough money, it could clear the group's debt. So I said nothing. But now that his lies are starting to affect my groupmates, my _friends_ , I can't stay silent any longer."

I asked WYLD if he had any information to back up his claims, and he said he did.

"Just think about it," the singer said. "How could [D.Min] afford such a lavish apartment on his own when MAYHEM's in such deep debt? Who changed the official records? How did this work without a background check? None of this makes sense unless the CEO knew from the start."

I then asked him if he thought this was a company-wide problem.

WYLD went silent for a very long time before responding, and when he did, his response shook me to the core.

"Nobody noticed [D.Min's] neck. Nobody commented on it. Somebody had to have seen before we did, and if they did and said nothing, then that means they knew why it was there. They knew what the CEO was doing."

I told him he sounded very convinced of this, and he agreed.

"I'm convinced because it happened to me. I'm convinced because the CEO could pull my hair and grab my shoulders and slap me and nobody would bat an eye. I'm convinced because either nobody noticed anything, or, like what happened to me, they chose to ignore it."

I only had one more question for him: what do you think about D.Min's past?

"It doesn't make a difference to me," WYLD immediately replied. "I understand that he's done some things in the past, and that those things may cause other people to look down at him. But even if you do believe what he did back then was wrong, I think he's suffered enough over the last four years to pay for it. I don't..."

WYLD trailed off, and after a minute, I prompted him to continue.

"I wish I had known," he finally told me, voice low and thick. "I wish I had been there for him when nobody was. I wish I had done more when I was there. I wish... I wish I had known."

Follow **@realdispatch** on Twitter to get updates for this story as it progresses!

_**1.1m views 320k comments** _

* * *

God, it's cold.

Jaewon's knee bounces as he sits on the bench, lower lip pulled between his teeth and nerves thrumming in the back of his mind.

His mom's coming.

Two years since debut, and his mom's finally going to meet his groupmates.

He distracts himself by scrolling through Twitter, lips curling into a soft smile at the outpouring of support. Of course, many people still don't believe him, but some _do_ , and that's more support than he's ever received.

...he's still not thinking about the text message he got from Daehyun.

( ~~"Stop lying, Jaewon-ah. Please."~~ )

The train pulls into the station, and his head jerks up as he shoves his phone in his pocket, nerves growing further as the doors slide open.

And _oh_.

His mom's carrying a suitcase with her, a gentle smile on her lips as her gaze flits over the crowd, and Jaewon jolts upright, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waves to her.

She catches sight of him after a moment, and her lips curl into the brightest smile as she strides forwards, and _his mom is here_.

They meet in the middle, Jaewon's face pressed into her hair and her face buried in his hoodie, and they stand there for a moment, her arms wrapped around her back and soft tears slipping from his eyes.

"Mom," he gasps, and his mother pulls back, reaching up to cup Jaewon's face in her hands.

"Have you been eating enough?" she frets, and Jaewon sniffs, reaching up to rub his nose.

"P-Probably not..."

"Let's go get something to eat then, hmm? My treat."

"...o-okay..."

* * *

**mayhem kim daehyun**

Daehyun-hyung?

o  
hi dongho-yah  
what's up?

Nothing.  
I just found a cat photo I thought you might want to see.

o yea  
you do have a cat

Isn't she staying at the dorm?

she is i just  
kinda forgot she was there  
you know?

Yeah.  
Anyways, here's the photo.  
  
It's old, so.

ahh look at her  
she small  
she sleep

She does.  
...I was just wondering, but.  
Is there anything you want to talk about?

what?

I've been asking Jaewon-hyung and Minsoo-hyung about you and they won't tell me anything.  
So I decided to try and contact you directly.  
I want to keep you as a friend, hyung, and I know it's probably too late for that, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes.

stop lying, then.

What?

about the ceo.  
you and jaewon-ah are lying and you've somehow gotten minsoo-yah to believe you.  
stop lying.

I'm not lying, Daehyun-hyung.

You're still lying.  
Why are you still lying?

I don't understand.

Do you have any proof to back up what you're saying?  
Because I'm not gonna lie, I trust the CEO a lot more than I trust you right now.

You don't believe me and Jaewon-hyung?

No.  
No, I don't.

...I don't have proof.  
The CEO has all the proof.  
All I can do is ask you to believe me.

I don't.  
Goodnight, Dongho-yah.

Hyung, wait.  
I don't...  
I don't know how to get you to believe me.  
I'm just asking you to trust me.  
Please.  
...  
Goodnight, hyung.  
I hope you have nice dreams.

* * *

Dongho's sipping a cup of coffee when the door opens, and he raises his head, the cup still cradled protectively to his chest.

"Good morning, Dongho-yah," Jaewon greets, and Dongho stares at the small cat plushie in his arms, utterly bewildered as to the reason for its presence. "I have someone I'd like you to meet..."

He steps back, revealing a middle-aged woman with long silver hair, and Dongho stares.

Blinks once.

Stares a bit more.

"What?"

"I'm Jaewon-ah's mother," the woman greets, moving to take a seat at his side. "When I heard one of his groupmates was in the hospital and had nobody to come visit them, I decided to come visit."

"You didn't have to," Dongho weakly protests, but the woman simply smiles, gesturing to the plushie in Jaewon's hands.

"Jaewon-ah got this for you!"

Oh.

 _Oh_.

"It reminded me of Boba," Jaewon sheepishly replies, placing the stuffed cat on top of Dongho's thighs. "She's doing great, by the way. Misses her dad."

Dongho reaches over to pull the cat into his arms, one hand gently stroking the top of its head, and he buries his face in its fur, inhaling the familiar smell of department store.

"Tell her I miss her too," he mumbles, voice muffled by the fabric.

"Cute," Jaewon breathes, and Dongho reaches up to scratch the plushie's head, lips curling into a small smile.

"Thank you for bringing her, Jaewon-hyung."

"Ah- you're welcome! I'm glad to see you're feeling a bit better!"

"Antidepressants," Dongho lazily replies, relinquishing his grasp on the plushie just long enough to make awkward jazz hands. "Tricking my brain into making seratonin."

"O-Oh..."

Dongho grasps the plushie once more, gently patting its head as he turns to Jaewon. "How's Nini as a name?"

"Nini?"

Dongho hums, patting the plushie's head with a bit more vigor. "Yeah. I like Nini."

"Okay?"

"I'll stay with Dongho-yah while you go get some rest," Jaewon's mother murmurs, taking a seat by Dongho's side. 

"Ah- are you sure?" Jaewon asks, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "I can stay..."

He's broken off by a jaw-cracking yawn, and Mrs. Ahn laughs a bit to herself, reaching out to grasp Dongho's hand. "We'll be alright. Go get some rest, Jaewonnie-yah."

"Ah-"

"Go rest, hyung," Dongho agrees, and Jaewon stares at him, eyes drooping, before he nods, fishing his phone out of his pocket and stumbling into the hall.

Once he's gone, Dongho turns to Mrs. Ahn, nerves thrumming under his skin as his fingers drum against the sheets.

"...what has Jaewon-hyung told you about me?"

"Only good things," she smiles, pulling a tupperware box out of her bag. "Jaewonnie-yah said you liked ramen, so I brought some from home..."

Dongho stares - first at her, then the tupperware - and slowly accepts it, dropping it in his lap and peeling open the lid.

 _God_ , it smells good. It smells like- smells like his memories of his mom, from when he and Jun were only a year or two old.

"Thank you," he murmurs, and he's almost glad his hair eclipses his eyes for a moment, because _god_ does he not want Jaewon's mom to see him cry.

A hand falls on his shoulder and a second one passes him chopsticks, and he presses his hands to his eyes, trying his best to stop the tears before they begin to flow. 

How pathetic is it that a home cooked meal can bring him to tears?

"You're welcome," Mrs. Ahn murmurs, gently rubbing his shoulder as he shakily unwraps the chopsticks. "I hope you like it, Dongho-yah."

He does, in fact, like it.

(he may also cry a bit, but he can neither confirm nor deny that.)

* * *

It's odd, being in the dorm like this.

Daehyun rests his head against the wall, his knees pulled to his chest and his phone in one hand. It's dark out - the kind of dark that's oppressing, rather than comforting - and he turns his attention back to his glowing screen, wincing at the sight of his wallpaper.

It's all four of them from right after they debuted, and _god_ , it hurts to see.

Minsoo's sitting in the center, a bright grin on his lips, and Jaewon's next to him, face glistening with sweat but smile bright as the sun. Behind them, Dongho's leaning on Minsoo's head and giving the camera a small smile, and Daehyun has his arm wrapped around Dongho's shoulders, grin bright and eyes sparkling.

God, they were so happy back then.

Not for the first time, Daehyun finds himself wondering _why_. _Why_ would Dongho and Jaewon lie like this, _why_ would Minsoo believe them, _why why why_ would they say all these things without any proof?

Why would they try to ruin MAYHEM without any proof?

MAYHEM was his dream - always _has been_ his dream - and here he is, helpless, forced to watch as it all crumbles to the ground. 

He fumbles with his phone for a moment before it unlocks, and he taps into his music app, reaching over to snag his headphones as it loads up.

If nothing else, he can listen to music.

He taps over to his normal playlist - _"Ultimate Hits✨"_ \- and pulls on his headphones, eyes drifting shut as the music starts to play.

He's so lost in the music that he misses the first time his phone buzzes, but as it continues to buzz with increasing frequency, he frowns, pausing his music as he flicks it on.

And _oh_ -

_**jaewonnie:** Hyung, did you see the video... [7 others]_

**_mmminsoo:_ ** _pick up your fucking phone... [11 others]_

_**minyoungie!!!!:** I just saw the video... [4 others]_

Daehyun thumbs his phone open with shaking hands, and he scrolls over to Twitter, tapping into his notifications and scrolling down. And _oh_ -

there's a video.

There's a video, and he can see a head of black hair and glistening blood.

He presses play, and his heart plummets to his feet.

_No._

* * *

Dongho wasn't exactly expecting visitors at eleven at night, but he can't say he's complaining.

He's engrossed in his game when the door slams open, and he only has enough time to look up and drop his phone before someone's tackling him in a hug.

What?

"I'm sorry," the person breathes, and Dongho's eyes widen as the voice registers.

 _Daehyun_.

"Hyung-"

"I'm so sorry," Daehyun gasps, reaching up to grip the back of Dongho's head. "God, Dongho-yah, Dongho-yah, I'm so- I'm so sorry-"

"It's okay," Dongho soothes, reaching up to wrap his arms around Daehyun's back. "It's okay, hyung."

"It's _not_ ," Daehyun sobs, and Dongho can feel tears seeping into the fabric of his hospital gown. "It's _not_ , Dongho-yah, and I'm so- I'm so, so sorry-"

"Hey," Dongho murmurs, nails gently scratching against Daehyun's scalp as he pulls the eldest into his lap. "It's alright. I'm not mad."

"...why're you being the responsible one?" Daehyun sniffs, reaching up to scrub his eyes. "D-Dammit..."

"I hope you're not expecting me to start acting like the maknae," Dongho mutters, arm falling to the small of Daehyun's back. "I'm _glad_ to give Minsoo that role."

"H-He'll be glad to keep it..."

"If it means I don't have to do aegyo? He can have all the maknae powers."

"No can do! You get the maknae powers, whether he likes it or not."

Dongho rolls his eyes, and Daehyun crawls closer, leaning over to rest his cheek on the youngest's hair. "What, you don't want maknae powers?"

"Not really."

"Not even for the free food?"

"I don't like being babied," Dongho simply replies, and yeah, Daehyun can get that.

Still.

"Do you like getting hugged?"

Dongho sighs, wrapping his arm around Daehyun's waist and resting his head on the elder's shoulder. "If you wanted a hug, you just had to ask."

...of course he would.

Daehyun exhales, watching as the motion disturbs locks of straw-like hair, and his eyes drift shut, relief washing over him now that he's finally, finally back with Dongho.

(now that MAYHEM is finally four again.)

* * *

"What have you _done_?"

Dongho stares at their entryway - first at the barren walls, then at the shoes strewn over the floor, then at the piles of dishes in the kitchen - and he rakes a hand through his hair, irritation evident. "Do you _ever_ clean?"

"We clean sometimes!" Minsoo protests, ushering Dongho forwards. "Anyways, you get to share a room with me!"

"...do _you_ clean sometimes?"

"Rude!" Minsoo cries, throwing his hands in the air. "I cleaned just for you coming home!"

"...great."

"Wh- _rude_!"

Minsoo tugs Dongho into the room, a bright smile on his lips as he gestures to the space, and it's... actually pretty nice.

It's "L"-shaped, with the shorter side being occupied by two beds and the other filled with various odd things, including Minsoo's gaming setup and a barren bookshelf. Dongho stares at it for a moment, expression blank, before a meow breaks the silence, and he grins, rounding the corner to plop down on the unoccupied bed.

"Hey, Boba. Did you miss me?"

The cat " _mrrow_ "s in affirmation, and Dongho reaches down to scratch her chin, smile growing as the cat starts to purr. "Aww... I missed you too, Boba-yah..."

...honestly, when she's being this cute, how can Minsoo resent her?

"I'm not doing the dishes all the time," Dongho states, hand shifting up to scratch between her ears. "Do you guys even have a schedule?"

"Not really?" Minsoo shrugs, flopping down on his bed. "They just get done by someone at some point."

"...I'm making a chores schedule."

"Look, look, look-look-look, you don't _have_ to do that, it's really gonna get done on its own-"

"I am making," Dongho states, turning to stare at him with determination blazing in his eyes, "a chore schedule, and you _cannot_ stop me."

"...okay."

Unsurprisingly, Dongho does, in fact, come out three hours later with a chore schedule.

Tears may or may not be shed.

Most of them may or may not be from Minsoo.

* * *

Slowly, slowly, Dongho's stuff starts to spread through the dorm. 

While the company's engrossed in legal battle after legal battle and management changes occur daily, MAYHEM are simply engrossed in pulling together as four.

It's nice. It's a nice change, trying to make friends instead of just work, work, work.

And, slowly, little signs of Dongho's presence start to appear.

A particularly soft blanket thrown haphazardly over the couch. A plushie left on a side table. Group photos slowly starting to fill the empty walls.

It's nice. Having all four of them here - it's _nice_.

What's even nicer than Dongho's stuff filling the dorm, though, is Dongho himself.

At the start, he's rarely home, mostly heading to work at the company or off to... somewhere. But slowly, slowly, he starts to grow more comfortable, willing to sprawl over the couch or the counter and listen to Daehyun sing along to the radio.

It's nice. 

Another thing they've noticed: Dongho is _small_.

Jaewon's not sure if it's the improper nutrition growing up or what, but the youngest is fucking _tiny_. He's about an inch shorter than Jaewon himself, which, unfortunately, puts him squarely in the "Daehyun armrest" height range, but he doesn't seem to particularly mind?

Dongho's a lot like their big brother, honestly. Whether it's the way he listens to Minsoo rant about his game or the way he picks up small things they didn't even know they needed - he's just a natural big brother.

Minsoo asked him about it once - why he's such an aggressive big brother - and Dongho just laughed before patting his head.

 _"I've got it stored up,"_ he replied, and Minsoo pretended not to notice the pain flickering in his eyes.

Still, having Dongho around more is just... so amazing. It's so great to have a fourth voice around, so great to have someone awake in the off chance of a nightmare, so great to have someone responsible to manage the genuine chaos that follows Minsoo at every turn.

It's just... nice.

(Minsoo will _never_ stop hating the CEO for taking this from them for so long.)

* * *

God, Jun _hates_ late shifts.

He's scrubbing the counter with a vengence when Nari strolls in, hood pulled over her hair and a bit of snow collecting on her jacket. 

Ah. So it is that time of year.

"You are here!" she exclaims, and Jun stares at her, expression blank.

"Yeah. I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I thought I just saw you on the street, but clearly that wasn't you, so-"

"What?" Jun breathes, and Nari stares at him, bewildered.

"Yeah. I mean, the guy looked a lot like you, just a bit shorter and with blondish hair, so-"

Jun isn't listening.

 _Dongho_.

If there's even- if there's even a _chance_ that that's his twin, he's going to grab it with both hands.

"Watch the store," he commands, vaulting over the counter and sprinting out the door. "I'll be back!"

"Wh- Jun! Wait-"

He slams the door shut behind him, wincing at the cold wind against his bare arms, but his gaze is pinned on the distant crowd.

It's nearly Christmas, and it shows - people bustle to and fro, looking at the illuminated windows and storefronts - but it's mostly a hazard for Jun as he weaves through the crowd, heart in his throat.

"Dongho!" he cries, head whipping from side to side as he searches for a head of blond. "Dongho!"

Up ahead-

there.

A blond man stands in front of a game store, face illuminated by the bright lights, and all the breath leaves Jun's lungs.

That's the same face he sees in the mirror.

The same face - maybe a little sharper, a little different in a few places - but _god_ , that's Dongho.

"Dongho," he breathes, stumbling to a stop in the snow. " _Dongho_ -"

The man turns, and Jun can only stare, helpless, as dark eyes so like his own land on him, and he can see the _exact moment_ Dongho realizes who he is, because he's running, and Jun's running, and they meet in the middle, a tangle of fabric and tears and the feeling of _finally, finally being home_.

" _Jun_ ," Dongho breathes, and Jun reaches up to grip his twin's hair, tears rolling down his cheeks and landing on the dark snow.

"It's you," he gasps, voice thick with tears. "It's you- it's really- it's really you, _Dongho_ -"

"I'm sorry," Dongho whispers, pressing his face into Jun's shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry, Junnie-"

"I'm sorry too," Jun murmurs, pulling Dongho even closer. "You can't... you can't leave this time, Dongho, you can't-"

"I'm not going anywhere," Dongho fervently vows, gripping the back of Jun's jacket as tightly as he can. "I'm not going anywhere, Jun."

"...good."

There's a long while where neither of them says a word, both of them simply wrapped up in each other, but when Jun sneezes from cold, Dongho pulls back, brows scrunched in irritation and a scarf already in his hands. 

"Don't get sick," he warns, and it's so much like their childhood that Jun wants to laugh or sob or scream or _something_ because Dongho is _right here_ and he just-

"You haven't changed at all," he finally sniffs, and Dongho's expression flickers for a moment before he winds the scarf around Jun's neck, clicking his tongue a few times as his gloves fumble the precise movements.

"There," he finally states, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "That's perfect."

This is what his painting's going to be about, Jun decides. Not about their childhood or their parents, but _this moment_ \- him and Dongho out in the cold, finally home after so, so long.

"I can't wait to introduce you to the rest of my family," Jun whispers, and Dongho nods, lips curling into the smallest of smiles.

"And I can't wait for you to meet the rest of mine."

* * *

There's something to be said for the dead of night, Dongho decides, looking at the people sprawled over the sofa. 

Minsoo's face is mashed into the cushions, drool leaking from his parted lips, and Daehyun's string-bean body covers three full cushions, arms hanging over the armrest and legs kicked up over the far pillow. Jun's asleep against the other armrest, and Jaewon's curled into a tiny ball between him and Daehyun's legs, a blanket over his shoulder, and Dongho just-

god, he missed this.

He takes a seat next to the couch, lips curling into the smallest of smiles, and he rests his chin on his knees, gaze drifting over the room's occupants once more.

This - _this_ is his family.

"Why're ya' still awake?" Minsoo mumbles, groping blindly for Dongho's head. He finds it (with Dongho's help) and gives him a few soft pats before peeling himself out of the cushions, plush lips scrunched up in a pout and eyes dazed. "Go to bed."

"I'm not tired," Dongho easily replies, and Minsoo groans, slowly wriggling out from under Daehyun's legs and flopping gracelessly on the floor.

"Sleep."

"No."

Minsoo groans, crawling over to drape himself over Dongho's lap, and the youngest sighs, hand coming to rest in the leader's hair. 

"...go to bed, Mini-hyung. You're tired."

"You too," Minsoo mumbles, sliding over to rest his head on Dongho's shoulder. "Not... not goin' t' bed without you."

Dongho sighs, eyes drifting shut after a moment. "...fine."

"Mm... good."

They sit in silence for a moment, Dongho's consciousness slowly being tugged away by sleep, but just before he's about to doze off, a faint voice breaks the silence. 

"Dongho-yah?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, hyung," Dongho murmurs, consciousness slipping once more. "You're all... you're all family."

And _god_ , he's never said anything more truthful in his entire life.

**Author's Note:**

> act titles are from, in order:
> 
> "LEO" - Eve  
> "Light Bulb" - NCT U  
> "Afraid" - DAY6
> 
> this is the longest oneshot i've ever written by... a lot. thank you so much for reading it all, and i'm going to give all the props to frog (iamliterallyahotpocket) for coming up with this au with me. this would not exist without them. thanks to them so, so much.
> 
> if you really liked it, please consider leaving a comment! it really does help a lot!
> 
> [twit](https://twitter.com/i_was_human_) | [lit fic discord!](https://discord.gg/CNunB74)


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